


Once Upon A Moonlight Dream

by ElephantCactus



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Betrayal, Blood and Violence, Cyberpunk, Death, Detectives, Dystopia, Family, Gay, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Killing, Loyalty, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Moral Dilemmas, Not Really Character Death, Orphans, Psychological Torture, Revenge, Secret Organizations, alternative universe, fairytales - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElephantCactus/pseuds/ElephantCactus
Summary: This job should have been easy. Gerard is the best there is, top of the Defenders with a perfect track record at only twenty one. Out of all his tasks, this is the one he’s most determined to complete. But for some reason, Gerard can’t seem to kill his target this time.A cyberpunk fairytale dystopia where Gerard is an assassin, set on taking down a mysterious Organization. Updated Wednesdays.© 2020 ElephantCactus. All rights reserved.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 46
Kudos: 18





	1. Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I hope you enjoy reading this! Each part is loosely based on a fairytale. Part one is Cinderella. Feel free to leave comments and kudos! It would mean a lot to me if you did.

# Part 1: Our Glass Hearts

**Once upon a moonlight dream,  
A little spirit came to me.  
He whispered stories in my ear,  
The words that I had held so dear. **

_Once upon a time, there was a miserable girl, trapped in a dangerous place. She wanted to escape, but she couldn’t do anything but to do as her overseers bid. Then she met a prince. He loved her and she loved him. Together, they were unstoppable. But by the stroke of midnight, she was gone, leaving her heart made of glass behind._

It is almost midnight when he gets the call. His phone rings loudly, echoing through the silence of the night, startling him. Gerard sleepily rolls over, picking it up, squinting from the light of the screen. Like everything else in his apartment, his phone is old, one of the old models rather than the thin new ones. But Gerard is one for practicality over flashiness.

“Hello?” Gerard asks, sitting up in bed. The bright blue and red lights of the city filter in through his curtains, illuminating his messy bedroom.  
“Come into the office,” the familiar voice says. “Now, Way.”  
“Oh fuck you too,” Gerard answers as he hangs up.

It’s bitterly cold out as Gerard steps out of his apartment complex, a scarf wrapped around his neck. The sky still dark, illuminated by the bright lights of the city, but it does nothing to cut down the wind chill. Gerard rolls his eyes as he crosses the street. They couldn’t have waited until morning to call? He’s probably going to be the last person there, but he doesn't care.

He walks down the sidewalk toward the office building, glancing at the colorful lights and displays, advertisements lining the fluorescent screens. That’s something he loves about living in the city of Kyotamo. The streets are always brightly lit, cheerful images smiling down on him, the LED blue and red lights lighting up the buildings. Even his small, rundown apartment building in the Third Sector is decorated with purple and blue lights.

Gerard probably should have taken a taxi or the subway. But he deigns to long walk instead to the First Sector, gazing at the lights. It’s nearly two and he doesn’t really care if he’s late. The streets are nearly silent, a strangeness for Kyotamo where the city is almost always bustling with activity. Gerard only spots a few other people making their way through the bitter cold.

He reaches the sprawling metropolitan area of the city in no time, turning off the main street and taking a shortcut down a narrow alleyway to his left, jumping over a fallen trash can. Gerard crosses the next street, picking up his pace into a jog as he pushes open the glass doors to the main lobby.

Gerard lifts his hand in greeting as the warm air hits him, seeing one of the guards frowning at him. He recognizes the guard—he’s the one that he’s seen his brother with quite a lot.  
“Agent Way, you’re late.”  
“Hey Pete,” Gerard grins. “Nice weather out?”  
“Your brother and Ray got here ages ago.”  
“I know,” Gerard answers breezily, handing his scarf and coat over to one of the waiting attendants.  
“Weapons?”  
“Oh, yeah,” Gerard pats himself down, placing his gun and a few knives on the tray.  
“Schechter’s gonna be pissed,” Pete says, taking the tray.  
“He’s always pissed at me,” Gerard answers as he hits the button for the elevator.  
“More than normal.”  
“I doubt that’s possible,” Gerard calls as the elevator doors shut behind him.

Gerard leans against the wall, watching the glowing numbers tick upward on the small screen. He knows he’s pressing the boundaries and testing the patience of too many people, but he doesn’t care. Gerard is the best that the Defenders have and he knows it. So he allows himself the air of cockiness that comes with it. Gerard checks his phone, seeing three messages.

Ray: Brian’s gonna kick your ass.  
Brian: Way, I swear to God. One more time and you’re done.  
Mikey: Where the hell are you?

Gerard responds to each of them with a smiley face before shutting off his phone and strolling out of the elevator with his hands tucked into his pockets. He saunters down the hallway, pushing open the doors at the end to his office.

His team has shared the office ever since they rose in the rankings, becoming one of the best teams of Defenders. It’s one of the biggest ones, windows spanning the length of the walls, giving them a nice view of the city of Kyotamo. Each of them now got a desk, along with a large table in the center. It was so much better than the old one they used to share with Pete’s team, down on the third floor. Gerard was mostly glad for the fact that it came with a coffee machine.

“You’re late.” Brian glares at him from the head of the table. Though he should be used to it by now, Gerard muses. Brian has been managing their team for the last two years.  
“People keep telling me this,” Gerard answers, dropping himself into a chair. “What’s going on?”  
“Good morning to you too,” Ray mutters as he grabs a cup of coffee from the counter.  
Brian rolls his eyes at Gerard’s response. “We have a new lead.”  
“On the Howell case?” Mikey yawns from where he’s sitting by the window. “I thought that was all tied up. Pete’s team took care of that.”  
“Is that why we had to come in at two in the morning?” Ray asks.  
“On the Organization.”

Gerard leans forward in his chair, the exhaustion gone from his mind. “The Organization?” he echoes, his interest piqued.  
Brian nods grimly. “You guys have a new mission.”

The Organization was the reason that Gerard had even been caught up in this whole mess, the whole reason he had joined the Defenders in the first place. The Defenders’ job was quite simple. They protected the Principality from outside threats. One of which was the Organization.

Gerard has a personal grudge with the Organization, that he will admit. More than anything, he wants to destroy them. The Organization was the reason for everything that went wrong. No one knew anything about them except for the fact that they were created to destroy the Principality. They did everything, from stealing money to sending assassins to kill people. And it was Gerard’s job, along with the other Defenders, to stop them.

But it was so hard to find anything. The Organization, true to its nature, was practically invisible. No one knew who they were or why they wanted to destroy the Principality. But Gerard is determined to catch them. After all, they did take everything away from him.

“What is the lead?” Gerard asks.  
Brian drops a file on the table. “This,” he says. “We don’t have anything except for a name.”

Gerard flips the folder open, staring at papers. The picture of a boy stares up at him, dark hair framing a pale face, piercing hazel eyes defiant. He looks young, maybe around fifteen, though Gerard has to admit that he is terrible with ages.  
“Who is this?” Mikey asks.  
Gerard reads out the name. “Frank Iero.”

*

The file is quite simple. Gerard flips through it a few times, just a photograph and a sheet of paper entailing his instructions. The usual, Gerard sighs. Just an order to obtain and kill whoever the subject is. Gerard honestly thought it would be more interesting, hunting down an employee of the Organization. He can’t help the thrill that runs through him, the anticipation that comes with a new case. It’s more this time, now that he’s finally tasked with hunting down the Organization. _Finally._ He’s waited for this day for over four years.

“Stop smiling, you look creepy,” Mikey elbows him, but his eyes are glowing with anticipation too. Mikey drums his fingers on the desk, eager to work. “The Organization? You’re certain? Finally!”  
“Absolutely,” Brian says. “And both of you look creepy. Remember that you’re hunting an assassin? It’s not a birthday party you are going to.”  
“Sorry,” Mikey mutters, not looking very apologetic.  
“What do we know about him?” Gerard asks. “How recent is the photograph?”  
Brian shrugs. “We have no clue. It could have been taken yesterday for all we know. I think it was taken from a yearbook though.”  
“But is there anything?” Gerard presses. “Anything at all?”  
“Responsible for the deaths of President Garcia and Senators Preston and Vega.” Brian paces across the room. “Attended St. Clarke’s middle school. Parents died when he was young. Car accident on Freeway four, right out of the city. He was taken to a Care Home 6 when he turned ten. Then the record goes blank.”  
“That’s it?” Mikey asks incredulously.  
Brian nods grimly. “That’s it.”  
“How did you find this?” Ray asks.  
“We got an anonymous tip after Preston’s death,” Brian says. “This morning someone called with information. He was apparently injured afterward. Got shot and someone spotted him trying to get away in the alleyway and recognized him.”  
“Preston’s, though?” Mikey asks. “Wow, that’s a surprise.”  
“He’s efficient, that’s for sure,” Gerard mutters. Preston’s death was a shock to everyone. Somehow, the assassin had managed to sneak into his apartment and out on the tenth floor without being caught by the security cameras or any of the guards. Even more shockingly, they had known that something might happen and the Defenders were prepared. Preston had received a death threat and had been kept under close guard, so it was a complete surprise that the Organization had still managed to get to him.  
“Anything else on him?” Ray asks.  
“He’s small,” Brian says. “Not very tall, slight stature. Dark hair, hazel eyes. Probably around twenty two. Last spotted in the Sixth Sector.”  
“Sixth?” Gerard echoes. The city of Kyotamo was divided into six sectors. First being the main buildings and government where the government officials lived. The Defenders were in the first sector, along with the important functions of the Principality. The Second included the upper class, nice restaurants and bars, Entertainment Places, nice housing and others. Third and Fourth were for the middle class. The Third is where Gerard had chosen to live though he could have lived in the Second if he wanted to. The Fifth was where the lower class laborers lived, where most of the factories and the outskirts of the city were. Sixth was the slums, where the lowest class and red light district of the Kyotamo was. Not to say that it wasn’t nice; all of Kyotamo was nice. The Principality made it so everyone was happy and everyone lived well, no matter how poor they were. But the upper class and elites of the Principality would almost never go to the Sixth district.  
“So he’s lower class then.”  
“He’s twenty two?” Mikey asks. “Wow, that’s young. I expected the Organization workers to be older.”  
“That’s just a guess,” Brian says. “He really could be anything, we have no clue.”  
“Twenty two,” Gerard mutters under his breath. “Wow.” Gerard was considered impressive, especially for a Defender. He had risen quickly in the rankings when he was only eighteen, becoming the best in his department at nineteen. Now, almost at twenty two, he was considered the best Defender there was with a perfect track record. Gerard shakes his head. Someone working for the opposite side, the Organization, less than a year older than him. He has to agree with Mikey: he thought that they would be much older.  
“Could the Organization be based out there?” Ray wonders. “The Sixth? There’s lots of crime out there.”  
Brian shakes his head. “We’ve already conducted investigations. There’s no sign of anything out there.”  
“So another dead end,” Mikey sighs. “Anything else?”  
“Pete’s team is bringing some information for you guys,” Brian says. “Security footage, files, anything you need.”  
“Great,” Gerard says. “Oh, can you get him to get all the footage from Preston’s death? I want to look it over. Let’s get working, team.”  
“I will leave you guys to it,” Brian says, picking up his coat. “This could be our ticket into the Organization.” He pauses at the door, glancing back at the three of them. “I know you guys can do this, you are the best that we have. Just don’t screw this up.”  
“You know I won’t,” Gerard vows. “I’m going to find him. I’m going to destroy them. That’s the reason why I joined.”  
“The reason we joined,” Mikey cuts in. He meets Gerard’s gaze. “Let’s do this. The Organization has been around too long. It’s time for us to fight. Let’s find this son of a bitch.”

*

Needless to say, it is a lot more difficult than Gerard thought it would be. He, Ray, and Mikey spend the entire next week reviewing the footage from Preston’s assassination, along with all the security footage from the area around his apartment.

“Anything?” Gerard yawns at last, peering over Mikey’s shoulder. It’s morning by now and the other teams and Defenders are slowly coming in to work. They’ve been here all night, or maybe it’s been two nights by now. Gerard has completely lost track of the time.  
“There,” Mikey angles the screen toward Gerard. “Right there.” He stops the video. In it, Preston is lying on his bed, evidently on the phone with someone.  
“Can you hear what he’s saying?”  
“Uh, yeah,” Mikey taps a few buttons. “Here.”

“No!” Preston is saying. “Goddammit, no. I know, yeah, But Hart is—yes, I know. But she’s—”  
“Hart?”  
“Vice President Hart is my guess,” Ray says. “I don’t know any other Harts. They’ve been working on a case for the senate.”  
“Makes sense,” Gerard mutters. He watches as Preston runs his hands through his hair. There’s the slightest movement on the windowsill that catches Gerard’s eye.  
“Zoom in on that.”  
“Oh, yeah, that’s him.” Mikey hits a few buttons and the screen zooms in. It’s not very helpful, honestly. The image is too grainy for Gerard to see anything. Except for the fact that the assassin—Frank—is perched on the narrow ledge, a gun in his hand. Gerard watches as the gunshot rips through the window. Preston slumps backward onto the bedspread just as two agents run into the room. They run to the window, but Gerard already knows that they didn’t see anything.

“We’ve watched all the angles,” Ray says. “He’s either invisible or really good.”  
Gerard groans. “Of course.”  
“What do you suppose we do?” Mikey asks.  
“I’m going to check out the apartment complex,”

It doesn’t take him long to get there. Gerard hails a taxi, instructing the driver to drop him off at the apartment. There, he meets one of Pete’s team.

“So this is where it happened?”  
Patrick nods. “Yep.” He points up with his cigarette. “That window right there.”  
Gerard squints at it. “What can you tell me about the case?”  
Patrick sighs. “Honestly, not much. There is no trace of him in the elevators or anywhere inside the building.”  
“Around it?”  
“Nothing. We checked the street cameras and the parking lot. There’s no sign of him.”  
“What about the alleyway?”  
“What alleyway?” Patrick looks confused.  
“The one that they spotted him in.”  
Patrick shrugs. “Beats me. You can look around if you want. There are too many alleyways in the city if you ask me.”  
Gerard hums in agreement as he follows Patrick toward the building. Scanning the sides of it, he notes the smooth, gleaming side of the building.  
“Any fingerprints?” Gerard asks.  
Patrick shakes his head. “None. Before you ask, no footprints, no witnesses, no sign of anything. I swear, a molecule wasn’t even disturbed. This guy just appeared and disappeared.”  
Gerard lets out a short laugh. “My job just got interesting.”

They pass by the garbage cans, a few rats scurrying out from underneath. Gerard wrinkles his nose at the sight of them. He’ll have to mention it to the Principality later. Pests were never a good sign.

Most of the apartment is open, but the tenth floor is partially taped off. Gerard ducks under the yellow caution tape, following Patrick down to a room overlooking the road. Patrick twists the knob, opening it.

“All the investigation has been done,” Patrick says. “I don’t exactly know what you’re looking for, but if you find anything, it’ll be in here.” He points to the bedroom.  
“Thanks,” Gerard says, slipping on a pair of gloves.

He first notes the size and shape of the bullet hole, the way that the glass is fragmented.  
“Point .38 caliber,” Patrick calls. “From the bullet that was dug out of the body. Good shot. It killed him instantly.”  
“And the Defenders protecting him didn’t see anything?”  
“Nada,” Patrick shakes his head. “Flash of black that was it.”  
“Can I open the window?” Gerard asks.  
“Be my guest.”

The window sticks as Gerard shoves it, peering down the dizzying height to the sidewalk below. A fall from this high up would kill someone. He glances along the ledge of the window. So Frank was standing here and shot Preston. There is no way he could have done that without a harness of some sort. Unless… Gerard glances out, seeing the lights running across the length of the building.

“Are these sturdy enough to stand on?” Gerard calls.  
“The lights?” Patrick answers. “Maybe? But I wouldn't—”  
“Test it,” Patrick finishes as Gerard grabs onto the windowsill, swinging himself out.  
Gerard is already out the window, his hand clenched onto the windowsill for support. From here, he has a clear vantage point of everything. The wind rushes against his coat, making it billow out. He grips the windowsill tighter, hearing Patrick muttering something behind him. Yes, it’s clear now. Frank, if he was agile enough, could have climbed up from where the garbage cans in the alleyway are. Still, it would have been a difficult task. In some places, the lights are far enough apart that Gerard isn’t even certain if he could reach if he strained.

Gerard can’t help but feel impressed. It is dangerous. If he didn’t have a harness, a fall would have been fatal. Especially with the recoil after the shot, Gerard is surprised that Frank didn’t fall. Even standing here, his legs feel weak. He can’t imagine what it would be like to climb up the side of this thing. He must have been determined or desperate, either one.

“Anything?” Patrick grumbles as Gerard climbs back through the window. “Ya know, Pete’s gonna kill me. And Mikey’s gonna kill him.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes. “Well, he’s agile and smart. And probably not very scared of heights. And doesn’t fear death at all.”  
“Helpful,” Patrick mutters.  
“Is there any footage from the outside of the building?” Gerard asks.  
Patrick shakes his head.  
“Of course not,” Gerard mutters. He pulls out his phone, sending a quick text to Mikey and Ray. _Climber, athletic._  
“Now what?” Patrick asks.  
Gerard shrugs. “I have one more stop.”

*

Care Home 6 is located on the outskirts of the Fourth Sector, bordering on the Fifth. Gerard waits for the subway, glancing up and down the platform as the high speed bullet train roars in. There’s someone playing the guitar further down near the tracks, the sound echoing through the tunnel.

The train itself is silver and sleek as it pulls into the platform. Gerard finds an open seat near the window, gazing out into the dark tunnel as the train pulls away from the station. It only takes a matter of minutes before the train has exited the tunnel, rushing along through the city. Gerard watches as the stops for Sectors Two and Three flash by, finally leaving the train at the Fourth one.

It’s quite a long walk, but Gerard doesn’t care. He strolls through the Fourth Sector, waving at a few kids playing in a schoolyard nearby. Gerard passes by the bakeries, smelling the freshly baked bread as he follows the road toward the outskirts of the Sector.

Here, it’s darker. In the city, everything is lit up with bright lights, but as he nears the Fifth Sector, the colored lights suddenly vanish. Gerard shivers as he picks up his pace. He almost never comes out here, most people don’t. A newspaper tumbles down the street, blown by a strong gust of wind as Gerard stops at the end of a lane, gazing at the brick house at the end.

The gate squeaks as he pushes it open, his boots squelching in the mud as he nears the front door. Care Home 6 is rundown. Gerard stares at it, almost dismayed. He had no clue places like this existed, especially not for orphaned children. It is nothing that the Principality would do. The shutters are mostly closed, ivy growing up the sides of the brick. The green front door could use a coat or two of paint.

Gerard knocks on the door, his hands in his pocket as he waits. He sees a flash of movement, seeing a little girl poke her head out, her dirty blond hair in pigtails. When she sees him looking, she ducks her head back inside with a squeak.

The door creaks open and an old woman peers out.  
“How may I help you?”  
“Oh, hello,” Gerard says. “I’m Agent Way, I work with the Defenders. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about someone who used to live here.” He holds up the picture of Frank.  
The old woman takes it from him, examining the photograph. “I remember him,” she murmurs at last. “Poor child. Come on in, Agent Way.”  
“Thank you, Miss,” Gerard says.  
“Call me Sarah,” she tells him.

The inside of the house is dark, the walls paneled with dark wood. Gerard steps over a few toys discarded in the front hall, following Sarah to an office at the back. She sits down slowly, turning to face him.  
“Would you like anything to drink? We have tea and coffee.” Sarah offers.  
“No thank you,” Gerard politely declines.  
“So, what do you want to know?” she asks.  
“Anything,” Gerard says.  
Sarah leans back in her chair. “Where to start?” she muses. “Frank Iero. He was ten when he was brought here. Parents were killed in a terrible car crash on the highway. He was a sweet kid, quiet too. Mostly hung by himself.”  
“Car crash?” Gerard asks.  
Sarah nods. “I still remember the day. Freeway four, right outside of Fifth Sector. It was bad. He was the only survivor, from both cars actually. Not a scratch on him, the poor thing. He was completely traumatized, not surprisingly.”  
“Do you think that’s why he left?”  
“He disappeared right before his twelfth birthday, two years after he came here. So I doubt it.”  
“Weird,” Gerard mutters. “This whole thing is weird.”  
“I know,” Sarah says. “I would leave the lights on outside hoping he’d come home, but he never did. He was a strange child certainly, but he had a good heart. Considerate and observant too. He would always help me with the chores when no one else would.”  
“What happened to him?” Gerard asks. “Where did he go afterward?”  
Sarah shrugs. “I have no clue.”  
“Why?”  
“I don’t know. We searched for him, but no one could find him. I hadn’t even thought about it until you showed up today.”  
“How long ago was this?”  
“Gosh, how time flies. I have no clue. Seven? Eight?”  
“Where did he stay?” Gerard asks.  
“Upstairs,” Sarah says. “I’ll show you.”

The wooden steps creak as he follows Sarah up the narrow wooden staircase to the second floor. A few kids peek out of bedrooms to see what the commotion is, ducking back inside when they see Gerard. Gerard glances into one of the rooms, seeing three beds crammed into the small space. A little boy looks up at him, his eyes widening with fear as he ducks behind the bed.

“How many kids are here?”  
“We’ve had more than we can handle for the past few years,” Sarah responds. “Typically we house twenty, but right now we have thirty seven.”  
“Thirty seven, wow,” Gerard murmurs. “That’s a lot.”  
Sarah gives him a glance that he doesn’t quite catch. “Indeed,” she mutters.  
“Are all of them like this?”  
“Pretty much,” Sarah sighs. “But we deal with what we have, don’t we?”  
Gerard agrees, but he’s still unsettled as he follows Sarah down the hallway.

At last, Sarah stops at the end of the hallway.  
“John?” she knocks on the door. “You in there?” When there’s no response, she pushes the door open.

This room is about as cramped as the other ones, four beds pushed into this one. Gerard steps over a pile of sweatshirts. Sarah fusses behind him, muttering something under her breath as she picks up the clothing, folding it and placing it on one of the beds.

“He stayed in that one,” Sarah points to the one in the corner. “I have a box of his things that he left behind, I can get that for you.”  
“That would be lovely,” Gerard says. As Sarah leaves, Gerard glances around the room. There’s a window here, he notes, peering out to the ground. It’s at least a twenty foot drop, though at this point, Gerard knows it shouldn’t surprise him after seeing Preston’s apartment. But it’s hard to imagine a twelve year old kid escaping out the window.

“He left out that way,” Sarah says. She drops a cardboard box on the bed. “Here you go.”  
Gerard kneels down, brushing the layer of dust away. “Is this everything?”  
“Most of it,” Sarah answers. “Not the clothes or the schoolbooks. He didn’t have much, never took much either.”  
Gerard nods as he unpacks the box, glancing at the notebooks and drawings.  
“He loved to draw,” Sarah says. “Always was drawing whenever he could.”  
“Did he have a diary or anything like that?” Gerard asks.  
“Oh,” Sarah responds. “I forgot to mention. That’s the other thing that’s missing. He took that with him when he left.”  
Gerard picks up a little stuffed teddy bear. It’s old, worn, and missing its left eye.  
“That was his,” Sarah says. “He brought that with him when he came here. It was with him in the car accident. I was surprised when he left and didn’t take it with him. I couldn’t bear to give it to the others. I kept it around just in case he came back.” She looks sad for a moment. “Obviously he never did.”

Frank Iero. Gerard shakes his head. It’s quite a mystery, turning out to be more complicated than he first suspected. A kind hearted, quiet, observant, orphaned ten year old boy who ran away from a Care Home at twelve and disappeared. At some point, he joined the terrorist Organization and killed three important people, no simple feat. Having been an orphan himself, Gerard can sympathize somewhat with how it must have felt to live here, alone. He can almost imagine a young Frank, the one from the photograph, curled up on the bed, staring out the window. Why would he join the Organization? What would possess a twelve year old to leave? Grief was one motivator, Gerard knew that, or revenge like the one that motivated Gerard himself. But why the Organization? And how?

“Can I take this with me?” Gerard asks.  
Sarah shrugs. “I don’t see why not. He’s never coming back here.”  
“Thank you for everything,” Gerard tells her. “Really.”  
“Is he okay?” Sarah asks. “I don’t know why you’re searching for him, but he was a sweet kid. Wouldn’t hurt a soul.”  
Gerard winces at the thought. “He’s fine,” Gerard lies. “We just want to make sure he’s okay.” That was possibly the farthest from the truth, but Gerard didn’t want to upset the old woman. How exactly would he be able to tell her that he was meant to kill someone she had cared for as a boy.  
Sarah sighs. “I do hope so. It’s hard you know, for all these kids. If only the Principality would do something about it.”

*

Thoroughly disconcerted, Gerard steps outside into the cold air with one last thank you to Sarah. He promises to help her out, feeling helpless at the sight of the Care Home. He tucks the teddy bear into his coat, turning to leave. Gerard heads out the gate, glancing behind him as he feels someone watching him. The little girl from earlier is standing a few feet away from him.

“Hello,” he says.  
The girl gives a little start, looking up at him. She looks like she is about to run, but she takes a step forward instead, still staring at him, more specifically, at the gun on his belt.  
“I’m Gerard,” Gerard waves at her. “What’s your name?”  
“Are you one of the bad guys?”  
“The bad guys?” Gerard asks. “No, I work for the Principality. I’m a Defender. I help defend us and keep the peace.”  
“Oh,” the girl says. “Sorry. You looked like the bad guys that came. They had those.” She points to his gun.  
“What do you mean?” Gerard asks. “The bad guys?” His mind whirls. Has the Organization come by? Sarah hadn’t mentioned anything like this. Is it possible that they contacted Frank, all those years ago? Or any others?  
The girl shivers. “The men with guns.”  
“What men? Did they hurt you?”  
She shakes her head. “No. They talked to Tommy though.”  
“Tommy?”  
“Yeah, he’s my friend,” the little girl says. “That’s him.” She points up to a window where a boy ducks out of sight. “I’m worried about him. He seemed scared.”  
“Do you know what they said?”  
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Tommy wouldn’t say. He’s been quiet lately though. He’s scaring me a bit.”  
“You don’t have to be,” Gerard says. “It’s okay, I’ll make sure you’re safe, I promise. We all will.” If it is the Organization, Gerard grits his teeth, then all the more reason for him to make them pay. For his own past, for terrifying these children. What they’ve done has to come to an end. Especially if they are working near the children. Why would the Organization be searching in the Care Homes though? What would they want with the orphans? None of the answers seem good to Gerard. Was Frank like that? It seems as if he was, if Sarah had told him the truth. A quiet orphaned kid, running away in the night at twelve years old and joining a terrorist Organization didn’t seem very likely, but it happened.  
The little girl gives him a toothy grin. “Okay,” she says.  
“Are you happy?” He doesn’t know where the question comes from exactly.  
The little girl gives him a confused look. Gerard has to admit how strange the question must seem, a twenty one year old stranger asking a eleven year old orphan if she is happy.  
“Maybe?” she responds. “I don’t know. Are you?”  
That was certainly not what Gerard was expecting. He blinks at her before nodding slowly. “I think so,” he says. “If I can keep everyone safe, if I can do my job and make sure that no one gets hurt, I know I will be.”  
“I think I’ll be happy,” the girl muses. “You should be happy too.” She skips away without another word. Gerard watches her go, feeling a strange pang in his heart as he turns to go.

Rather than take the long walk back home, Gerard hails a taxi. The black cab pulls up, the bright yellow sign on the top glowing in the darkness.  
“Defender’s Headquarters, First Sector,” he instructs the driver as they pull away from the curb. He leans back in the seat, watching the buildings whiz by, the area around them growing lighter and lighter as they leave the Fourth Sector, entering the Second, leaving the dark and misery behind them. Gerard glances down at the teddy bear in his hands. It’s a mystery, really. He can’t help but feel a bit bad for Frank. _He’s killed people,_ Gerard scolds himself. _He’s part of the Organization for heaven’s sake._ Frank is a murderer. He’s killed several people, innocent people too. Still, it’s strange, knowing Frank’s backstory. Running away at only twelve? Why did he leave? What would push a twelve year old to disappear and kill?

His phone rings with an incoming call from Mikey. Gerard wrestles his phone from his pocket.  
“Hi, what’s up?” Gerard asks. “Anything happen?”  
“Hey,” Mikey says. “Gerard, we found him.”


	2. Evil Comes In Pairs

Found him was a bit of an overstatement, Gerard soon found out when he walked into the Defender’s building. They had narrowed down the search location to the northwestern part of the Sixth Sector, bordering on the Fifth. Ray had spotted him, or a person who looked a lot like the photograph, entering a bar through a side door in the alleyway off of Tremont Street. The security footage was old, from a week ago, but it was better than nothing. Gerard feels a flutter of anticipation. They’re closer, at least closer than they were before. 

“You certain it’s him?” Gerard asks for the millionth time.  
“Certain,” Ray rolls his eyes. “You can see the footage again if you want.”  
“Sorry, I just want to be certain,” Gerard mutters as Ray rewinds the footage. 

It’s unmistakably him. At this point, Gerard thinks he could recognize Frank anywhere, having studied the photograph so much. The footage itself is grimy, but Gerard can see the colorful lights of the interior of the bar. 

“Anything else?”  
“He left two hours later,” Ray says. “Goes around the back onto Appleton Boulevard, then goes into the Crown Motel.”  
“Is he staying there?”  
“Not that we can tell,” Mikey answers. “We checked the logbook of the hotel, no one matching the name or description. He could have just popped in, then left.”   
“Security cameras of the motel?”  
“Nothing,” Ray responds. “Most of the rooms don’t have them though.”  
“Is there only one entrance to the motel?”  
“Two.”  
“Security on the back one?”  
“Nope.”   
There’s a possibility, Gerard muses. “But none in the lobby? How far back did you check?”  
“Two weeks.”  
“Go back further,” Gerard says. “We need to catch him.”

Gerard’s head starts to hurt after watching people file in and out of a hotel lobby for five hours. Their program scans each face for one matching Frank’s, but it still takes a long time. Gerard leans back in his chair, sipping a warm cup of coffee, trying to keep himself awake. Beside him, Ray and Mikey are snoring, taking a quick nap before they switch out with Gerard. 

Gerard lets his mind drift off to the mystery shrouding Frank. Earlier, he had dropped off the teddy bear at his apartment, but he still couldn’t get the haunting image of it or Care Home 6 out of his mind. What must it have been like for an orphaned boy, all alone, to live there? Gerard had lost his parents, but he had been older, at seventeen years old while Frank had been ten. And Gerard hadn’t been sent to a Care Home, no. He had been old enough that he had been able to get his own apartment and take care of his younger brother there. Gerard shivers at the thought of Mikey being sent to a Care Home. It probably would have happened, if Gerard hadn’t been old enough since Mikey was a mere fifteen. But the two of them had avoided the Care Homes. Gerard had gotten a job as a Defender, just like his parents were, determined to fight the Organization, and two years later, Mikey joined him. 

The monitor beeps, jolting Gerard out of his daze. He sits up quickly, hot coffee sloshing over the sides of his cup and onto his hand, but he doesn’t care. Gerard taps a few buttons, the image zooming in on a face that he swears he would now recognize in his dreams. It’s Frank, there’s no doubt about it. 

Gerard watches as he checks into the motel, taking a key, then disappearing out the front door. So Frank has been staying here. Gerard glances down at the date. He’s been here for over a month. Why? Is he staking out for the next kill? Who would he be after in the Sixth Sector? No one important was out there. 

Gerard wakes Ray and Mikey as quickly as he can.  
“Go away,” Ray mumbles as Gerard shakes him.  
“What happened?” Mikey yawns. “Gee?”  
“I found him,” Gerard says tersely.   
Both of them wide awake in a matter of seconds, peering over Gerard’s shoulder at the footage.   
“So he’s there,” Ray says. “Or at least he was two weeks ago.”  
“Chances are, he’s still there,” Gerard says. “We need to get over there.”  
“I’ll call Brian,” Mikey says.   
“Tell him to get his ass up here,” Gerard says. “We are going to need a plan.”

Twenty minutes later, Brian is there, knocking on their office door.   
“Record time, Schechter,” Gerard remarks as he opens the door. “A little bit longer and you’ll take as long as me.” It is four AM and Brian looks half asleep, but Gerard never said he was a nice person.   
“Shut the fuck up, Way,” Brian grumbles as he pushes past Gerard. “At least I got here. What is it? If you woke me up for nothing, I’m pushing you out the window.”  
“We found him,” Ray says before Gerard can say something snarky back.  
“You certain?” Brian asks, suddenly wide awake.   
“Absolutely,” Mikey says. He shows Brian the footage.   
“Well, beats me. It’s him, no doubt about it,” Brian says. “So what’s your plan?”

All three of them look over at Gerard.   
“We go in,” Gerard says. “See if we can find him. It’ll have to be quiet though. He’s going to notice if anything is wrong.”  
Brian hands him a sheet. “Here’s the supplies and backup you are registered for. Tell me if that’s enough.”  
“Quadrant Red?” Gerard gasps as soon as he reads the list. “What the fuck?” The Defenders had several different jobs. Gerard, Mikey, and Ray were the higher up positions, ones that had taken them a while to reach. They were assigned to a Team, just like Pete’s team and the many others. The Quadrants were used mainly for big operations, ones that required lots of manpower. Not for hits like the one that Gerard’s team has.   
“It’s insane,” Ray says. “Why do we need that many people? How dangerous is this guy?”  
Brian shrugs. “It’s what the instructions say.”

Gerard chews the inside of his lip when he reads the list over again. If he’s learned anything from the past few days, meeting Sarah, seeing the Care Home and the kids living there, and seeing the way that Frank worked, it’s that Frank is observant. He knows for a fact that an entire Quadrant storming into the Sixth Sector is not only going to make Frank disappear again, but is also going to cause an entire uprising. That’s when Gerard makes the decision. 

“I don’t want many people with us.”  
“What do you mean?” Brian asks.   
“It’s an assassination job. Not one for an entire team. I just need mine. Oh, and backup. Pete’s team will do.”  
Brian frowns. “You sure? You’re listed as having the entire Quadrant Red with you. Gerard, I know you are not a stickler for following the rules, but it specifically says that.”  
Gerard shrugs. “Well I am the best Defender we have. I think my way usually works pretty well, don’t you say?”  
Brian sighs. “If you say so,” he says. “Don’t make me regret it, Way.”  
“I won’t.” 

*

They set Gerard up in the motel room at the Crown Motel, Mikey keeping a watch out for any sign of Frank.   
“So, what is it?” Gerard asks.   
“We know he’s around here somewhere.” Ray motions to the screen. “It’s that bar, across the street.”  
“Let me go in alone,” Gerard mutters. “And get the car ready. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”  
“You sure?” Ray asks.   
“We’ll scare him if the entire team goes in. Actually, we’ll just scare everyone.”  
“If you’re sure,” Mikey calls from the doorway. “What about this room?”  
“Leave it for me.”   
“Good luck,” Ray calls after him. 

Gerard crosses the street, his hands in his pockets as he ducks through the alleyway. He hid his gun in the waistband of his pants, abandoning his Defender’s badge and phone with Ray and Mikey. 

The bar is colorfully lit, the putrid stench of gasoline and sweat hanging in the air. Gerard unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt, mussing up his hair and rolling up his sleeves. He orders a drink, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste. He’s never been one for places like this, but he knows what he has to do. 

“Find anything?” Ray asks in his earpiece.   
“Nope,” Gerard mutters, making his way around the crowds of people drinking. He scans each of the tables, looking for the face in the photograph. No one looks to be right. When he turns, ready to give up, he spots a lone figure sitting at a table in the back, his back to Gerard. 

In an instant, Gerard knows he’s found who he’s looking for. He’s studied the photograph so much that he’s pretty certain that he knows Frank’s face just as well as his own at this point. He would probably recognize Frank if he dyed his hair or tattooed his face. He’s smaller than Gerard expected, much smaller. Frank seems older than in the photograph, but nowhere near as old as Gerard expected. In fact, he doesn't even look old enough to be in this bar. Gerard is surprised that the bouncers even let him in. He knows he should reach for his gun but for some reason he doesn’t. 

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?”  
Without turning around, Frank laughs, his voice soft and melodic. “Do you use that line on everyone you meet?”  
“Maybe.” Gerard pulls out a bar stool with a loud scraping noise, sitting down next to Frank. “You gonna tell me your name?”  
“I’m Frank.” Frank answers, looking over at him and holding out his hand. He’s attractive, Gerard has to admit, beautiful eyes and a daring look.   
“Gerard,” Gerard says as he takes Frank’s hand, his gaze meeting Frank’s.   
“Well what brings you out here tonight?” Frank asks. “You don’t look like an average Sixth sector boy.”  
“Work,” Gerard responds. “Searching for something, I guess. Or someone.” He lets his gaze linger on Frank, feeling a hint of satisfaction when Frank blushes, looking away. “What about you?”  
“Same,” Frank answers. He glances over at Gerard, perhaps a bit shyly.   
“Are you even legal?”  
“Of course.” Frank looks affronted by the idea. “I’m eighteen.”  
Eighteen! So Gerard’s estimate was off by four years. Eighteen. Wow, that’s young. Frank is quite a bit younger than Gerard thought he would be. He shouldn’t be surprised, seeing how Frank ran away from the Care Home when he was a mere twelve years old. Gerard tries not to let his surprise show, but he knows Frank has caught on from the way Frank wrinkles his nose, assuming Gerard is surprised for a different reason.   
“Don’t make that face. You’re what, twenty?”  
“Uh, twenty one,” Gerard manages to say.   
“Well what do you say, Gerard?” Frank asks. “I don’t have anywhere to be tonight. So wanna take me home with you?”

They don’t even make it two steps into Gerard’s motel room before Frank is kissing him, his arms wrapping around Gerard’s neck. Gerard walks Frank against the wall, pinning Frank there as Frank wrapping his legs around Gerard’s waist. Gerard takes out his earpiece as he does so, dropping it to the ground. He runs his hands along Frank’s belt and under his shirt, hearing Frank let out quiet breathy moans. He doesn’t seem to notice as Gerard pats him down, searching for any weapons. Gerard finds a gun at Frank’s belt and knives strapped to Frank’s thigh and calves. He loosens the knives from their sheathes, tossing them to the ground with a soft clatter. 

Frank reaches down, as if by instinct, his hand drifting to where the knives would be. But Gerard is faster, shoving his own hand down Frank’s pants. Frank lets out a gasp, his fingers tightening in Gerard’s hair. They’re on the bed in an instant, Frank beneath him. Gerard didn’t intend for it to go this far, but he doesn’t want to stop now. 

“Oh my god,” Frank groans, his hand pressed against Gerard’s chest. “Gerard—” His hand snakes around, finding the gun in Gerard’s belt. Gerard jerks backward instantly, pushing Frank’s hand away, but it’s too late. 

Frank stares up at him, his eyes wide with fear as he scrambles away. Gerard grips the handle of the gun with his hand, the metal cold against his hands. Frank’s hand drifts down to where his weapons would be, a strange expression crossing his face when he realizes that they’re gone, putting two and two together.   
“You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” Frank asks at last, his voice sounding small.  
Gerard stares at him, suddenly at a loss for words. Is he? He doesn’t even know that. What is it about this case that is making it so difficult for him? Gerard wills himself to point the gun at Frank and pull the trigger, but he can’t. He really should have shot Frank in the bar and been done with it. There was no reason he had to bring Frank with him back to the motel. Frank is part of the Organization, he is a killer. Gerard should kill him, it’s his job. But for some reason, he can’t. Maybe it was seeing Frank’s life, the mystery surrounding it. Or maybe its because Frank is on the bed in front of him, staring up at Gerard, terror on his face. And he looks so young all of a sudden. Gerard can almost imagine the twelve year old version of Frank slipping out of the window. And he can’t bring himself to shoot. But he has to.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard croaks out, his hand tightening on the gun. He moves, but he’s not fast enough. Frank’s knee catches him in the chest as Gerard falls, springing up to his feet. He curses, dropping the gun, chasing Frank as he runs away from Gerard, to the window of his motel room. 

“Wait,” Gerard gasps.   
“You’re fucking asking me to wait?” Frank asks, fumbling with the lock. Ray had disabled them earlier and Gerard knew that the only way Frank could get out was past him and through the front door.   
“There are guards outside surrounding the entire building.” That’s a lie, there is only his team and Pete’s team for backup. But Frank doesn’t know that.   
Frank’s head whips up as he stares at Gerard, panic in his eyes.   
“There’s no use in running,” Gerard says softly. “If you come with me, they won’t hurt you. There’s no point in trying to escape. You’ll only get hurt. If you come with me, I promise, I won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure no one touches you.”  
“You don’t know that.” Frank’s eyes flare with anger. “You can’t stop them. You can’t promise me anything.”  
“Please,” Gerard holds his hands out. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just come with me and it doesn’t have to be any more difficult.”

Frank hesitates, taking a step forward and for a moment Gerard actually thinks Frank is going to come with him willingly. Then Frank punches him in the face. 

Gerard doubles over, clutching his jaw as Frank runs past him. Goddamn, he’s fast. Gerard lashes out a leg, tripping him. He has Frank in a chokehold in a matter of seconds, his arm wrapped around Frank’s neck, Frank struggling to break free, thrashing like a fish out of water.  
“Stop it,” Gerard hisses out as Frank elbows him in the ribs sharply. “Stop struggling.”  
Frank doesn’t stop, but his movements grow weaker and more frantic before he finally stops struggling, going limp in Gerard’s grip. 

After a few seconds, Gerard cautiously lets him go, Frank’s head lolling against his shoulder. Frank doesn’t stir, even as Gerard presses two fingers to the inside of Frank’s wrist, taking his pulse. It’s weak, but it’s still there. 

“Well that was easy,” he says to no one in the empty hotel room. “Piece of cake.”

*

“I’m heading to the car,” Gerard says when he puts his earpiece back in.   
“What happened?” Mikey asks. “You just went silent.”  
“I’ll explain later.” Gerard really doesn’t want to have this conversation right now. He takes out his earpiece, stuffing it into his pocket. 

Gerard curses to himself as he lifts Frank’s limp body off the ground. He’s going to be in so much trouble, he knows it already. But he can’t help it, so he carries Frank down the staircase, into the parking lot where Ray and Mikey are waiting. 

He knows it must look extremely suspicious, him carrying an unconscious Frank down the staircase in the back and to the car. Gerard makes a mental note to tell Ray and Mikey to erase the footage later. He’s going to be in enough trouble with them, he doesn’t need his superiors to know what just happened. Speaking of his superiors, he already knows how pissed off they are going to be. It’s too late now though, he’s already gone through all the trouble.  
Gerard opens the door to the backseat, lying Frank across the two seats before climbing in himself. Mikey turns around from where he’s sitting in the front seat, staring at Gerard. Ray raises an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.   
“Gerard,” Mikey says slowly. “What did you do?”  
“Please tell me he’s dead,” Ray sighs. “Or actually, wait, do I want to know why you’re carrying a dead body?”  
“Do you have the tranquilizer?”  
“Oh no, please no,” Ray mutters.   
“Just give it to me,” Gerard sighs. Mikey hands it to him grudgingly as Gerard pulls out the syringe, injecting it into Frank’s arm. He watches as Frank relaxes slightly, his chest rising and falling steadily.   
“Oh god, you didn’t kill him did you?” Ray groans. “Gerard! Really? I know you hate listening to instructions, but really?”  
“Just fucking drive okay?” Gerard gets out through gritted teeth. “We need to get back before the others and before he wakes up.”  
Ray shakes his head, but he puts the car in drive, the three of them speeding out of the parking lot.

Gerard instructs Ray to go to one of the side warehouses, one of the ones off the main path, instead of to the office like they usually would have gone. Pete sends Mikey a question mark, which Mikey responds to with a glare at Gerard and a few lines of text to Pete. Gerard just rolls his eyes, staring down at the sleeping form of Frank beside him. 

The warehouse is brightly lit as Gerard and Ray carry Frank inside. It wasn’t hard for Gerard to get clearance, just a flash of his badge did it and the warehouse was theirs for the night. The walls are painted an off white, a color that Gerard despises, but the paint job wasn’t his choice. Frank is still unconscious, his head pressed against Gerard’s chest as the two of them carry him to the glass interrogation cell in the center of the warehouse floor. 

“You sure it’s a good idea?” Ray mutters as they put Frank in the chair. Mikey hands them some ropes and Gerard gets to work securing Frank to the chair. He pulls the ropes tight, trying to make sure they aren’t too tight.  
“He’s just a kid, Mikey,” Gerard says, frustrated. “I couldn’t kill him.”  
“He’s a killer, Gee. He’s killed so many people.”  
“So have I,” Gerard answers. “He’s barely older than you.”  
“They’re going to be pissed at you,” Ray mutters.  
“I know,” Gerard sighs. “What else is new?”  
“I mean, really pissed. You’ve never outright disobeyed orders like this before.”  
Gerard shrugs. “First time for everything, right?”  
“But why?” Ray asks. “Why this time? It was the Organization. I thought you’d be more on board with this one than ever.”  
Gerard gazes into the cell, where Frank’s head is slumped against his chest, his dark hair obscuring his face. “I don’t know.”

Ray watches him for a moment before dropping a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “Go get freshened up. I’ll call you if anything happens.”  
“Thanks,” Gerard says, suddenly exhausted. “For everything man. I couldn’t do this without you.”  
“Well,” Ray says humorlessly. “If it all goes to shit, we’re blaming you.”  
“That’s fair,” Gerard agrees as he leaves the room. 

Half an hour later, Gerard is standing in front of the mirror, toweling off his dark hair. He stares at his reflection, gingerly touching the swelling purple bruise on his cheek from where Frank punched him. There is one rule, though unspoken, one that every Defender knows. Don’t get close to a target. And Gerard has broken that rule. For the first time, he allowed himself to care. He’s unsure of what exactly he’s become. If anyone had asked him a few days ago, he would have said he prided himself on his ruthlessness, his quick and efficient killing, his determination to destroy the Organization and everyone who stood with them. Now, he’s not so sure. 

A knock on the door makes him jump. Gerard grabs the towel, slinging it over his shoulder as he opens it to see Ray’s weary face.   
“He’s awake,” Ray says. 

*

Gerard watches through the glass as Frank squints around at his surroundings, blinded by the bright light. Frank tries to lift his hands before he realizes that he is tied to the chair. Gerard follows Ray into the brightly lit room, standing in front of Frank as he stares at them, defiance burning in his eyes. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” Ray asks him.   
Frank glares at him. “I don’t know anything.” His voice sounds hoarse and scratchy, probably from when Gerard choked him.   
“Well let me start with what I know,” Gerard says. “Frank Iero. Eighteen years old. Part of the Organization. You killed President Garcia, Senator Preston, and Senator Vega. Attended St. Clarke’s middle school. Your parents were killed in a car accident on Freeway four, right out of the city when you were ten. Then you were taken to Care Home 6. At some point, right before your twelfth birthday, you escaped.” Gerard stops there, aware of how little knowledge he really knows about Frank.   
Frank curls his lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
Gerard sighs. “I don’t want to do this the hard way,” he says. “Please. Just tell me what you know.”  
“I don’t know anything,” Frank says stubbornly. “I already told you that.”  
“You have to know something,” Gerard presses. “Anything. You have to give us something.”  
“I don’t know anything!” Frank shouts. Gerard winces as he strains against the handcuffs again. “Please, you have to let me go.”  
“Who do you work for?” Ray asks.   
Frank shakes his head. “I can’t tell you that.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because it’s too dangerous.”  
“To me or to you?”  
“Both.”

Ray sighs. “We didn’t want to do this the hard way,” he says. “This is your last chance. Cooperate with us.”  
“Or what, you’ll kill me?” Frank laughs. “Trust me, I’ve been through worse.”  
“You’ll wish that we did after this,” Ray responds. “Gerard, come on.”

Gerard hesitates, but he moves as Ray motions him out, moving to stand near Mikey outside of the glass room. He watches as Ray says something to one of Pete’s teammates that Gerard doesn’t recognize. Joe, he thinks. Joe nods moving over to the other side of the wall. 

Gerard doesn’t exactly know what it is, he never bothered to ask. But he assumes it's painful. Inside the room, Frank lets out a muffled gasp of pain, straining against his restraints, his teeth gritted. He’s taking it extremely well, Gerard notes, his stomach twisting. Frank cries out, the sound cutting through Gerard’s thoughts. His head falls back as he twists, trying to break free, another cry escaping from his lips.

“Okay, stop.” Gerard moves toward the room. “Cut it out.”  
Mikey raises an eyebrow at him. “You do know that he’s part of the Organization? The people that killed—”  
“He’s not going to tell us anything under torture.”  
“That’s like the entire point of torture,” Mikey snaps. He softens his voice. “Gerard, don’t you want to catch the Organization? I thought that’s what you wanted. They are the people that killed our—”  
“I know,” Gerard hisses. “Just—” he runs his hand through his hair. “Ugh, just stop it. I can’t stand to see that. We’ll find another method.”   
Mikey watches him for a moment cautiously before moving to the other side of the room where Ray and the other man are standing. 

“Way!” Gerard spins around as Brian storms in, a team of men in tow, Pete and Andy lagging after them, apologetic looks on their faces. Gerard instructed them to keep Brian away, though he knows there isn’t much they could do. He stops and stares at Frank. “You were supposed to kill him.”  
“That makes no sense!” Gerard exclaims.   
“It was the orders. If you don’t want to, I’ll just do it now.” Brian’s gun is raised, aimed at Frank. Gerard steps in the way.   
“Agent Way, move aside.”  
“No,” Gerard says. “Tell me why first.”  
“It’s the order. You can’t just disobey them.”  
“I will if it makes no sense. We can use him, Brian.”  
Brian lowers his gun, glaring at Gerard. “Mikey, can you talk some sense into your brother?”  
“I already tried,” Mikey sighs. “He’s not giving in.”  
“Way, really?” Brian says. “I know you don’t like following orders, but it’s the goddamn Organization we’re talking about. The motherfucking Organization. The one that you hate? He’s part of them.”  
“But why?” Gerard asks, lowering his voice, fully aware of how Frank is straining against the ropes, trying to listen in. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep him alive? Then we could interrogate him, find out where the Organization is. He’s just a kid, really.”  
“He’s killed people, Gerard. I don’t care how young he is. And he’s part of the Organization. And those are your orders, Gerard! I really don’t want to explain it to the superiors why you disobeyed again. You’ve never had a problem with killing before this. I thought you would be okay this time too, more than okay. How many times did you pester me to assign you a case with the Organization?”  
“He’s not the problem,” Gerard sighs. “Brian, he’s just an agent. It’s the leaders of it that we have to find. We can use him, Brian.”  
Brian hesitates and Gerard knows that he’s winning.  
“Please, Schechter,” Gerard begs. “Don’t tell them. You know how much this means to me. I won’t screw it up, I promise. I just need to find the Organization.”  
Brian sighs. “But you need to get rid of him.”  
“Wait—” Gerard says, but Brian stops him with a meaningful glance.   
“Make sure he’s gone by tomorrow,” Brian says loudly. “Or else you’ll be in trouble, Way.”

*

“You’re dead.”  
Frank looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks for the information,” he says, then coughs weakly. He blinks up at Gerard, his gaze slightly unfocused, eyes hazy. Gerard wonders how much of the drug is still coursing through his system. It’s strange to think about, the fact that merely two hours ago, he was nearly going to sleep with Frank. If he hadn’t been on a mission and Frank hadn’t been part of the Organization, who knows what would have happened?   
Gerard rolls his eyes, though a part of him is impressed that Frank is still able to be this snarky after being tortured. “I mean, you’re supposed to be dead.”  
Frank tenses as Gerard nears him, his eyes wide with fear. “Yeah, well, I definitely am,” Frank says dryly, but his gaze doesn’t leave Gerard as Gerard moves closer.   
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” Gerard soothes.   
“You said that last time,” Frank mutters. Gerard winces as he notes the blood crusted beneath Frank’s nose and eyes and the swelling purple bruises on his neck.   
“I’m going to get you out of here.”  
Frank stares at him. “What? I thought that—” He stops as Gerard tosses a folder to him. Frank flips it open, looking down at it, then up at Gerard, open mouthed.   
“It’s your death certificate,” Gerard says.  
“Yeah, I can read,” Frank bites back. He pauses, probably still stunned and processing the information. “Why?”  
“I killed you,” Gerard says. “Five minutes ago, I took you out back and shot you. Ray, Brian, and Mikey were there to witness it. I put your body in a bag and a team took you to the mortuary.”  
Frank stares at him. “But why?” he asks again. “Why are you helping me? You’re supposed to be working against me.”  
“I never said I was helping you,” Gerard says sharply. “I just don’t think that killing you will benefit either of us. So how about we help each other. I could just as easily kill you right now, but I don’t think you’d like that very much. So how about we make a trade? Your life for information.”  
Frank holds his gaze before dropping it. “I don’t know,” he mutters.   
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Gerard says dryly. “You worried they’ll come for you?”  
Frank’s head snaps up. “Well, yeah,” he answers awkwardly.   
“Then you die either way,” Gerard points out brusquely. “But you might get to live a little longer if you help me. And who knows, maybe we take down the Organization and you are safe forever. I’ll vouch for your safety and freedom if you cooperate.”  
Frank hesitates. “You can’t promise that.”  
“How do you know if I can or not?” Gerard asks.   
“Won’t you get in trouble? When you reveal that I’m actually alive?”  
“Please,” Gerard smirks. “I’m always in trouble. I’m also the best that they have, so there’s that.”  
“Not really the best,” Frank snorts. “You couldn’t kill me.”  
Gerard can’t help but laugh. “That’s true. I could now though, so don’t tease me too much. So, do we have a deal? Your life in exchange for information?”  
Frank hesitates before he nods. “Okay,” he whispers. “Get me out of here then.”

Frank flinches when Gerard reaches for the ropes.   
“Relax,” Gerard says softly. Frank glances over at him before nodding slowly. He tenses all over again when Gerard pulls a knife out.   
“I’m really not going to hurt you,” Gerard says with a hint of amusement as he slices through the bonds. Frank stands up, gingerly rubbing his wrists. Gerard winces as he notes the chafing on his wrists, the places where his skin has been rubbed raw.   
“Thanks, I guess,” he mutters.  
“You better be,” Gerard responds. “I’m risking my neck getting you out of here. Hold out your hand.”  
Frank eyes the handcuffs warily, looking as if he wants to bolt. “I’m not going to run. We literally made a deal.”  
“Yeah, but I can’t trust you,” Gerard says. “You don’t trust me either, so I think fair is fair.”  
“Can’t you just put a tracker on me?”  
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Gerard answers. “How am I going to explain why there’s a dead body moving around with me?”  
Frank sighs, but he holds out his hand, letting Gerard lock the handcuff around his wrist. Gerard attaches the other side to his own wrist before turning to look down at Frank.

“Cover your face,” Gerard says, handing him a baseball cap and a coat. He reaches over to take Frank’s hand. Frank moves away from him instinctively, the handcuff rattling as he does so. “ _Trust me._ ”  
Frank stares at him. “I don’t think I have a choice, do I?”  
“Not really,” Gerard answers, taking Frank’s hand. From here, the handcuffs are invisible from where they’re hidden by Gerard’s jacket. “Keep up with me and don’t say a word.”

Gerard pulls Frank with him, his arm wrapped around Frank’s shoulders as he steers the two of them out the back. There’s a fire escape back here. They can’t get out the front door with the other guards there, the guards who assume that Frank is dead. Gerard swipes his badge, pushing Frank through the doors as they close behind him with a loud slam. 

The two of them run along the narrow dark escape, hearing the sound of sirens start above them. It’s slow moving with the two of them, but somehow they manage to reach the ground, running down the alleyway.   
“This was a bad idea,” Frank pants.   
“Sorry, did you have a better one?” Gerard asks. “Shit.” They’ve reached a dead end.   
“Where’s your car?”  
“Parking lot, two floors above.”  
“We can get there,” Frank says. Gerard glances over at him, then remembers how Frank climbed up the side of the building to kill Preston.   
“Can we?” Gerard scans the buildings.   
“Using the pipes,” Frank says. He holds his linked hand out to Gerard. “I can’t climb with my hand locked. Please.”  
Gerard hesitates, drawing the key from his pocket. “Can I trust you?”  
Frank holds his gaze. “I think you have to,” he says.   
Gerard sighs, unlocking them. Before Frank can move away, he puts a tracker on Frank’s shirt. “Sorry, not completely,” he says. “Now move before they find the tracker.”

Frank sighs, but he puts his foot on the side of the building, beginning to climb. Gerard watches him for a moment, impressed as Frank scales the side of the pipes, the muscles in his arms standing out as he climbed onto the row of lights. He glances down at Gerard, his face illuminated in blue. 

“What are you waiting for, slowpoke?” Frank calls.   
Gerard rolls his eyes, starting to climb after Frank. It’s difficult work and he’s soaked in sweat despite the cold air in a matter of seconds. But he reaches the platform where Frank is standing faster than Frank did. To be a Defender, he did train for this. Gerard can’t help but feel a flash of pride at the awe on Frank’s face.  
“Showoff,” Frank mutters as he swings himself over the edge to the garage.  
“Yeah, a bit,” Gerard whispers under his breath as he follows Frank.


	3. A Hint Of Magic

Frank falls asleep in the car ride to Gerard’s apartment. The tracker is crushed beneath the car's tires as Gerard speeds away. Gerard glances over at the passenger’s seat where Frank is curled against the window, his face shielded by a baseball cap, his right wrist locked to the seatbelt. In the dim lighting, the bruises on his throat stand out even more, the sight of them making Gerard’s stomach twist. 

When Gerard parks the car, he reaches over to wake Frank up, but Frank is already awake, blinking at him. Not for the first time, Gerard thanks himself for his choice in apartments. If he lived in the First or Second Sectors, sneaking Frank into his apartment would have been impossible. But Gerard’s apartment building is old and too rundown to have any type of security. 

He fumbles with the keys, unlocking his apartment door while keeping one hand on Frank’s.   
“Do you have to keep me chained up?” Frank asks as soon as Gerard shuts the door.   
“Sorry,” Gerard shrugs. “It’s just for now. I can’t have you running off. You’re supposed to be dead after all.”  
“I’m not stupid,” Frank scoffs. “I’m not going to run back to your people and willingly turn myself in.”  
“To the Organization?”  
Frank hesitates. “It’s complicated,” he mutters. “You don’t understand. Just know that I’m in no rush to go back to them.”  
“Yeah, but you’re also an assassin and I don’t trust that you’re not going to slit my throat in my sleep.”  
Frank laughs at that. “Yeah, who knows?”  
Gerard gazes at him. “Uh,” he says. _Wow, clever, very clever._ “Are you hungry? I can make us some food.”  
“Oh, thanks,” Frank mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor. He looks embarrassed and open, something that Gerard hasn’t seen before. “Can I—er— take a shower? Or do you want to come with me for that too?” He glares up at Gerard, holding his handcuffed wrist out, his sarcastic demeanor back.  
Gerard’s face flushes. “No, but don’t give me any ideas. I’ll chain you to the fucking bathtub.”  
“I didn’t know you were into that,” Frank retorts. “If so maybe we could’ve tried that instead of you trying to kill me.”  
 _I’m going to fucking gag you if you don’t shut up._ Gerard keeps the retort from rising to his lips, knowing that Frank will only have something snarkier to say in response. Instead, he hands Frank some clothes. “Here. I’ll be outside the bathroom door.”  
“Thank you so much,” Frank says dryly. Gerard hears the door slam and the shower start up before Gerard leans against the door. 

Gerard tries to busy himself with some paperwork, but gives up after a while, the numbers blurring together in his mind. He tosses his pen and paper across the room, standing up. The quiet sound of sniffling catches his attention as he turns to leave. Almost as if someone is crying.   
He knocks on the bathroom door. “Frank? Are you okay?” he calls softly.  
“I’m fine, go away,” is the response, but Frank’s voice sounds shaky.  
Gerard doesn’t know what to do so he backs away slowly, heading to the kitchen to make some food, though he knows he practically has nothing in his refrigerator. 

Eventually, Frank comes out of the bathroom. Gerard has to smile at the sight: his clothes are several sizes too big for Frank. Frank had to roll up the sleeves of Gerard’s sweatshirt several times. 

“Here,” Gerard hands him a simple sandwich. “That’s all I have.”  
“Thanks,” Frank mumbles, tearing off a chunk. He must have been starving, Gerard notes, as Frank finishes. Frank looks a bit better, having washed the blood off of his face, though he still looks pale and drowsy, dark circles under his eyes. 

“So what now?” Frank asks. “You want to interrogate me or something? Make me spill my life’s secrets?” He tries to sound strong but Gerard can tell he’s swaying on his feet slightly.   
Gerard looks Frank over before making a decision. “No. You look asleep already. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”  
Frank nods, probably too tired to argue.  
“You can take the bed,” Gerard offers.   
“Really?” Frank looks over at him.   
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Gerard says dismissively. “It’s fine.”  
“It’s your apartment,” Frank points out uncomfortably. “I’m also your prisoner. You can just put me wherever, it doesn’t really matter.”  
“Yeah and it’s my job to make sure you don’t run off. I don’t have anywhere to tie you up. Take the bed.”

He handcuffs Frank to the bed, trying not to look over at the way that Frank is watching him, amusement glinting in his eyes.  
“Kinky. I didn’t know you were so into this,” Frank says dryly.   
“I’m glad you find this fun,” Gerard snipes back.  
“Oh, you know I’m having the time of my life here, being handcuffed to the bed by someone who tried to hook up with me and then tried to kill me.”  
“Me too. I just love having assassins who killed the fucking president inside my house. Also, not to mention assassins that I was supposed to have killed.” Gerard rolls his eyes. “We could do this all night. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be, okay? You agreed to this in our deal.”  
“You know it,” Frank grins up at him through his eyelashes, blinking at him with big hazel doe eyes, looking as innocent as possible. “I promise I’ll be good. Please don’t punish me, da—”  
“God,” Gerard groans. “I’m going to stop you right there. Please shut up.” He yanks on the chain, satisfied when it doesn’t come loose. “Have a good night.” Gerard crosses the room, moving to shut the door and give Frank a little bit of privacy.

“Can you, uh, stay with me?” Frank calls. Gerard turns to see him fiddling with the blankets. “I just that—being locked up, I just—actually never mind.” he trails off.   
Gerard stands there for a moment, watching him until Frank looks away, a blush coloring his cheeks.   
“Go,” Frank says. “I’m fine.”  
“Just call to me if you need anything, okay?” Gerard tells him, still disconcerted.   
Frank nods, the bed creaking as he lies down. Gerard hears Frank sigh, but the exhaustion catches up to him and Gerard is sound asleep before he knows it. 

*

Gerard is woken up in the middle of the night, hearing a strange rattling noise. He sits up, fumbling for a light as he peers around his dimly lit apartment. There’s nowhere the noise could be coming from, except— 

The floor creaks as Gerard crosses the room, fumbling for the light in the hallway. He knocks on the door to his bedroom.   
“Frank?” he calls softly. “You okay?”  
There’s no response so Gerard pushes the door open, turning on the lamp beside the door. 

It’s a mess. Frank is twisting around, struggling against something that Gerard can’t see, his hands wet with blood.  
“Please don’t,” he cries. “No, stop it. Stop it!”   
Gerard freezes at the sight, unsure of what to do before he finds himself moving. He climbs onto the bed, cursing and trying to pin a thrashing Frank down. He can tell the blood came from where the handcuff dug into Frank’s skin. The chain jerks and rattles, pulling taut as Frank moves.  
“Wake up,” Gerard mutters. “Frank, wake up.”  
“Don’t do this,” Frank begs. “Please stop it. I promise I’ll be good. Don’t do this to me!” Gerard’s stomach twists at the sound of the words. He knows that the words aren’t directed toward him, but it makes him sick to hear them. 

He roughly shakes Frank, but Frank doesn’t wake, still fighting against him. Gerard casts a helpless glance around, trying to figure out how to wake him up. The handcuff is digging into Frank’s wrist tighter, blood sticky against Gerard’s fingers. He curses at the sight, knowing he has to wake Frank up before anything worse happens. Gerard pins Frank’s hands above his head, slapping Frank across the face, hard. 

The sound rings out across the room as Frank freezes, going limp beneath him. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide as he stares up at Gerard. Gerard wastes no time, getting the handcuff unlocked. He grabs a wet rag, cleaning the blood off of Frank’s wrist as gently as he can. The wound isn’t deep, just chafing where the cuff rubbed his skin raw.   
“It’s just a dream,” he whispers. “You’re safe, you’re okay.”  
Frank nods slowly though he still looks dazed as Gerard bandages his wrist.   
“How do you feel?” he asks.   
Frank shrugs, looking away. He cradles his bandaged wrist, refusing to meet Gerard’s eyes.   
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”  
Frank nods.   
“I have to tie you back up,” he says softly. “Can you give me your other wrist?”  
Frank does so without protest, lying back down as Gerard secures him.   
“Will you be alright?” Gerard asks. What he wants to do is comfort Frank, but he doesn’t know how welcome his advances would be.   
Frank nods again, rolling over and turning his back on Gerard. “I’ll be fine,” he murmurs. 

*

When Gerard steps into the office the next morning, he’s not surprised by the shitshow waiting for him. Brian, Ray, and Mikey are already there, staring at him as he walks in. If it were any other day, he could just pretend he was late like normal. But Gerard knows that he’s actually in trouble this time. 

“What the fuck did you do,” Ray sighs, breaking the silence. “Really?”  
“Brian told us,” Mikey says. “And really, I should have guessed. But seriously, Gerard?”  
“What did you do with him?” Brian asks. “I’m assuming something stupid because you’re here and he’s not.”  
“He’s secure,” Gerard protests. “I’m not a complete idiot.”  
“Pretty sure you are,” Mikey mutters.   
“We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you just followed the goddamn orders, Way.”  
Gerard buries his face in his hands. “Ugh, we’ve been over this already. I told you my reasoning. You didn’t have to help me.”  
“Well I did and a thank you would be nice,” Brian snaps. He softens his voice. “Gerard, really, what were you thinking?”  
Gerard shrugs. “It just didn’t feel right. The orders made no sense.”  
“Maybe,” Ray says. “But you don’t just ignore them.”   
“I do if they don’t make sense,” Gerard snaps. “Didn’t we have this conversation already?”  
“I know you hate following orders,” Mikey says. “But this time? Really? You’ve never directly disobeyed anything, it’s just the little things that you usually ignore. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. He’s part of the Organization. You can’t just ignore that fact because you have the hots for him or something.”  
“Well, luckily, I don’t,” Gerard snaps, his face heating up. “I just think he’s more useful alive than dead. How are we supposed to find out about the Organization from a dead man? He knows something and I can get it out of him.”  
Mikey rolls his eyes. “Something tells me that this is a bad idea.”  
“Trust me,” Gerard begs. “Please. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t matter anyway, I’ll just kill him afterward. It’s a win win situation.” He doesn’t know if he could actually do that, but maybe it will convince Mikey.   
Mikey nods slowly. “Gerard, I really hope you’re right about this.’  
“I am,” Gerard says with far more conviction than he has. “Well, first things first. The footage from the—”   
“We wiped the footage already,” Mikey says begrudgingly. “You think I’d let them find out?”  
“What do you plan to do with him?” Ray asks.   
“I’ll ask him what he knows.”  
“How do you know he won’t just lie to you?”  
“He might,” Gerard says. “But he has nothing else to do. I’ll get the truth eventually.”  
“I sure hope you do,” Brian says. “But do it fast, please. The longer he’s alive, the more chances for the Principality to catch on. You know how they are to people who disobey their orders. Especially when it comes to the Organization.”  
Gerard shivers. “I know,” he says. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

*

When Gerard knocks on the door, there’s no response. He pushes the door open slowly, gazing inside. After the night's ordeals, Frank is still sound asleep, curled up on his side, his lips parted slightly. He looks comfortable, or at least as comfortable as one can be when handcuffed to the wire headboard. 

Gerard sits down on the side of the bed, smiling softly to himself. Frank looks peaceful, his eyes closed, his dark hair falling into his face. For some reason, Gerard wants to reach over and brush the fallen hair aside. 

But before he can, Frank jolts up, his eyes wide. His gaze lands on Gerard. “Oh,” he says in a small voice. “How long have you been here?”  
“Not long,” Gerard says. “Are you feeling better?”  
Frank nods, his gaze dropping down to the blankets.   
“That’s a nice watch,” Gerard comments.   
Frank glances down at his free wrist, at the small silver watch strapped to it. Gerard can see the small designs carved into the sides. Frank’s initials, he guesses, and a small engraved image of an animal of some sort. “Oh, yeah.”  
“Where did you get it?”  
“My parents gave it to me,” Frank replies. “I’ve had it since I was little.”  
“Speaking of things. Is this yours?” Gerard holds out the teddy bear he took from Care Home 6.   
Frank stares at it for so long that Gerard almost wonders if he’s turned to stone. “Where did you get that?” Frank asks.   
“The Care Home 6,” Gerard responds. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”  
Frank nods slowly. “My mom gave it to me when I was little,” he says. “Before she died. You talked to Sarah?”  
“She misses you.”  
Frank drops his gaze. “I’m sure she does,” he says softly without a hint of sarcasm. “How is she doing? How are they?”  
“She’s fine. Why did you leave? You only were twelve, weren’t you? What possessed you to go.”  
“I see you’ve been doing your research on me.”  
Gerard snorts. “Had to. You’re not easy to catch. You’re a mystery, you know that? There’s so much about you that makes no sense.”  
“Well, what do you want?” Frank asks. “I know you didn’t come in here just to chat with me. So spill.”  
Gerard sighs. “I need to ask you some questions, okay?”  
Frank eyes him. “Okay,” he says slowly.   
“Can you answer them truthfully?”  
“Depends.”

Gerard sighs again. “Frank, we can help you. I just need to know the truth.”  
“Can you help me?”  
“We can keep you safe.”  
“Keep me safe?” Frank gives an incredulous laugh, looking up at him. “Well, sorry for not believing you, but I did work for the Organization, you know. It was kinda my job to defeat you guys. No offense, but you suck.”  
“Do we.” Gerard folds his arms over his chest.   
“You do,” Frank answers. “It was even easy for me.”  
“Then why did you get shot?”  
That catches Frank off guard. “Shot?” he echoes.  
“After Preston’s murder.”  
“I didn’t.”  
“Then how come someone saw you?”  
“Saw me?”  
“That’s how we got the lead on you. Someone saw you and recognized you.”  
Frank shakes his head. “That’s impossible. I didn’t get shot.”

Gerard stares at him before shrugging. He’ll have to ask Brian later, it was possible that he misheard him, especially since it was two in the morning and Gerard was extremely sleep deprived.   
“Well, lets get started,” Gerard says. “Do you work for the Organization?”  
“You already know the answer to that question.”  
“Just answer me and we can be done with this,” Gerard sighs.   
Frank glares at him. “Define work for.”  
“It’s a fucking yes or no question,” Gerard groans. “Please just answer it.”  
Frank drops his gaze to the blankets. “Fine. Yes.”  
“Okay.” Gerard makes a mark on his sheet of paper. “Since when?”  
“Since I was twelve.”  
“After you ran away from the Care Home?”  
Frank nods.   
“Why did you run away?”  
“Why do you hate the Organization so much?” Frank asks. He’s avoiding the question, Gerard notes to himself, writing down a note to himself.   
Gerard glares at him. “None of your business. I’m asking the questions here. Where is the Organization located?”  
“I have no clue.”  
“You have to know something,” Gerard presses. “How were you assigned your cases? What were you even doing in the Sixth Sector?”  
“Fine,” Frank sighs. “I was there because that’s where I was assigned. I don’t know why, they just told me to stake out there and information would be coming soon.”  
“How did they tell you?”  
Frank shifts in his chair. “They just told me.”  
“Who? Stop being cagey.”  
“I’m not!”   
Gerard stares at Frank, raising an eyebrow.  
“Fine,” Frank mutters. “I don’t really know, it’s complicated, okay?”  
“Then explain it.”  
“Usually I stay at the barracks.”  
“Where are they?”  
“Let me finish, okay?” Frank asks, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.   
Gerard nods.   
“I don’t know where they are located. The security is really tight. When we’re not on missions, we stay there. It’s a whole procedure. I’m just one of the hitmen, I don’t deal with the upper level stuff so all of that is secret to me. Like they knock you out kind of secret. We stay there and when we have missions, they debrief us and send us into the field. That’s it. I told you, I know nothing.”  
“Really?” Gerard glares at him. “You know that—”  
“Don’t threaten me. I know, blah blah blah, you’ll kill me or whatever. I’m telling the truth. I don’t know anything about them. I just do what they tell me to.”  
“Why?”  
“Why do you hate them?”  
“I’m asking the questions.”  
“I mean, I hate them too,” Frank says. “And why don’t I get a turn?”  
“You’re my prisoner, that’s why. And if you hate them, help us. Why do you hate them?”  
“I am,” Frank says, then winces. “I don’t know. But why? Why do you hate them?”  
“Why do you work for them?” Gerard shoots back. When Frank doesn’t respond, Gerard gives a half hearted shrug. “See, not fun to answer.”  
“Because I have to,” Frank responds. “I don’t have a choice.”  
“Everyone has a choice.”  
“Not everyone.” Frank looks up at him. “I didn’t. It was work for them or die. I don’t have a choice.”  
“You do now. Help us catch them.”  
“You still don’t see it, do you?” Frank shouts. “You really don’t. They will kill me if I leave, if I tell you anything. You know how good they are, how dangerous they are. Do you really think that you can protect me? Do you think I can really trust you? You will kill me if I tell you anything and kill me if I don’t.”  
That catches Gerard off guard. “What?” he says. “I’m not going to kill you.”  
Frank laughs, the sound bitter and harsh. “Oh really,” he responds. “Is that why you faked my death? They ordered you to kill me for heaven’s sake. They give you orders and you blindly follow them without caring. I hate the Organization but I hate the Principality too. They’ve done nothing for me except for wanting me dead.”  
“I didn’t!” Gerard shouts. “You’re fucking alive right now.”  
“Am I?” Frank looks up at him. “I’m chained to a fucking bed. What are you planning to do with me afterward? I know you’re not just going to let me go. You said you would vouch for me. You really think that that would work? You think that they would just let me go for free?”  
“Then why did you come with me?” Gerard asks softly. “You could have just refused. I offered it to you and you took it. If you knew that you were going to die either way, why did you come?”  
Frank looks up at him, startled. “I don’t know,” he says. “What about you? You hate the Organization. Why didn’t you just kill me from the start? You killed everyone else you were assigned to. Why was I any different?”  
That catches Gerard off guard. “I don’t know,” he echoes.   
“Exactly,” Frank answers as he rolls over, turning his back to Gerard. “Tell me when you have an answer and maybe I’ll tell you my secrets.”

*

He probably could have forced the answers out of Frank somehow. Frank is his prisoner, after all. But Gerard ends up leaving, making sure the door is locked as he heads to his car. He doesn’t exactly know where he’s going, maybe to clear his head. 

Gerard ends up at the Defender’s building, heading up to where their office is. Might as well get some work done before he heads home and deals with Frank again. 

The rest of the office is empty, except for one person sitting at the large table. Ray looks up when he walks in.  
“Back so soon?” he says as a way of greeting.   
“Shut it,” Gerard sighs as he sits down in one of the chairs. “Where is Mikey?”  
“He went out with Pete and the team a while ago,” Ray answers, marking another page. “How’s the interrogation going? Not well, I assume.”  
“I don’t know,” Gerard sighs. “He doesn't know much.”  
“Well, you have to have learned something,” Ray urges.   
“Yeah,” Gerard says. “Nothing helpful.” He frowns, leaning forward. “He did mention the fact that it wasn’t his choice to join the Organization.”  
“So not like we thought?” Ray asks. “So maybe our little killer wasn’t so intent on killing?”  
“It makes more sense that way,” Gerard muses. “If what Sarah and Care Home 6 told me was true, he didn’t seem like the type to kill. At least unless he—oh no.” Suddenly Gerard remembers the nightmares that Frank had. What did he say? _Stop it._ Gerard’s stomach wrenches and he feels sick all of a sudden.   
“What?”  
“Is it possible that he was forced into it?” Gerard asks. “He escaped from the Care Home but did he really escape or was he taken? When I asked him about it, he avoided my question.”  
“Strange,” Ray mutters. “I have to say, this is the strangest case that we’ve ever had.”  
“He mentioned a barrack of some sort,” Gerard muses. “Any idea where that could be?”  
“I’ll look into it,” Ray says, making a note. “You should probably ask him for any other details. There are plenty of places that could house multiple people.”   
“I tried. He said he didn’t know anything.”  
“Try again.”  
“Want a turn? He’s not the easiest to deal with,” Gerard complains. “I think I upset him.”  
Ray gives him a strange glance before looking away, shaking his head.   
“What?” Gerard asks.   
“I didn’t say anything.”  
“No, what? You wanted to.”  
Ray sighs, setting down his paper. “He’s part of the Organization.”  
“Well, obviously,” Gerard doesn’t know where this is leading.   
“No matter if he was forced into it or not, he did kill people. He’s a murderer and more than that, he’s our prisoner.”  
“I know that,” Gerard says.   
“Really?” Ray asks. “Cause it doesn’t really seem like it.”  
Gerard folds his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”  
Ray picks up his paper again. “I’m just wondering what your true feelings are.”  
“I want the Organization gone,” Gerard says, puzzled. “Of course I do. That’s why I took him as a prisoner. We need information so we can defeat the Organization.”  
Ray rolls his eyes. “I know that, dumbass. You only mention it like ten times a day. I’m asking about your feelings about Frank. There is something, isn’t there?”  
“Then you know I don’t have any,” Gerard answers. “It was a waste coming here anyway. I should just go back.”  
“Keep telling yourself that,” Ray calls. “Just be careful, Gerard, okay? No matter how well you think you know him, keep it in mind that he is a killer. He’s trained just like we are.”

*

It’s dark by the time Gerard opens the door to his apartment. He shuts the door as quietly as he can, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Ray is wrong, he doesn’t have any feelings for Frank, any except for maybe hatred. Frank’s part of his job, nothing more. 

Still, he moves toward the bedroom, knocking softly on the door before opening it. The bedside lamp is on, Frank staring at it, still curled in the bed, not like he could move anywhere else. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard says, sitting down on the edge of Frank’s bed. Frank keeps his back turned to Gerard, nestling into the blankets more. “I shouldn’t have pressed you. I overstepped.”  
“I gave you my word that I wouldn’t hurt you,” Gerard says. “I promised you that no one would kill you.”  
“You can’t stop it,” Frank responds at last. “You can certainly try but you should know that there’s really no way I’m going to survive. The Organization will want me dead. The Principality wants me dead. There’s no way out. So just ask me your questions. I’m going to die anyway so I might as well tell you the truth.”  
Gerard sighs, reaching over and taking Frank’s free hand in his. Frank jolts up at his touch, staring at him with wide eyes.   
“I’m gonna let you walk around for a bit,” Gerard tells him. “If you want.”  
“Oh, thanks,” Frank mutters.  
Gerard reaches over, unlocking the handcuff. Frank rubs his wrist, staring at Gerard all the while.   
“Thanks,” he whispers. 

Frank pushes the covers away, moving to stand up. As soon as he tries to, he collapses though, Gerard moving to catch him.   
“I’m fine,” Frank insists, pushing Gerard away and standing up by himself. He looks uncomfortable though as he takes a few unsteady steps out of the bedroom. Gerard follows him, partially to make sure he doesn’t run off, partially to make sure Frank doesn’t collapse again. 

They walk a few laps around Gerard’s apartment in silence before Gerard steers them back into the bedroom, sitting them back down on the bed. Frank looks at him expectantly, but Gerard doesn’t move to chain him down again.  
“Earlier you asked me why I hate the Organization,” Gerard says softly.  
“You don’t have to answer,” Frank mutters. “You were right, it’s not my place to ask. I agreed to the deal. I’m your—”  
“I think it’s fair,” Gerard cuts him off. “It’s a deal, right? Deals are two sided, not one. If you’re going to tell me everything about you, I think you deserve to know at least something about me.”  
Frank glances up at him. “I guess so,” he answers. “I don’t want to bring back bad memories or anything—”  
“It’s okay.” Gerard takes a deep breath. “It’s because the Organization killed my parents.”

*

He remembered the day like it was yesterday. How could he not? It was the day that his world turned upside down, the day that he became an orphan. The memories were burned into his brain and he doubted he would ever forget them. 

The one thing he thanked the universe for was that he had found his parents first. 

Both of his parents were Defenders, just like Gerard is. He had followed in their footsteps, wanting to be like them and wanting to make sure that no one else lost their parents like he did. 

The Way family lived on the fifteenth floor of an apartment building. The entirety of their death resembled Preston’s: two gunshots through a window leaving two dead bodies behind. It was the Organization, there was no doubt about it. No one else would have, no one else could have. 

Gerard had come home to school, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. He had opened the door and seen them lying there in a puddle of scarlet blood. To this day, he can’t get the images of the corpses out of his mind, the cavities where the brains should have been, the bright pink of soft flesh, torn apart. 

It all faded to a blur after that. The next memory Gerard had was holding Mikey in the emergency room, surrounded by brightly colored lights. People gave their condolences, but the only thing Gerard could do was scheme. Scheme on how to get revenge. 

After their death, his first goal was to protect Mikey. Protect Mikey from seeing their bodies, then protect Mikey from anything else that could happen. Gerard fought, argued with the courts until they finally succeeded Mikey to him. Gerard was close enough to eighteen at that point that he had been able to take guardianship of Mikey instead of Mikey being sent to a Care Home. 

His second was to make whoever killed his parents pay. Gerard joined the Defenders two weeks later, first becoming a foot soldier in the Quadrants, then becoming one of the team. He rose through the ranks, showing his ruthlessness in hunting down his opponents, in finding the Organization. Though he was rarely given a task like that, he was determined to prove his worth. So when a case with the Organization first surfaced, Frank’s case, Gerard was given it. 

He hated the Organization because they took everything away from him. He wanted to destroy them because they had destroyed his parents. Gerard wanted to make sure that no one else would suffer the same thing, that no other kid would lose their parents like he had. 

*

“I’m sorry,” Frank says when Gerard is finished. “Wow, I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago,” Gerard answers. “I don’t need your sympathy. I just need to destroy the Organization.”  
“So that’s why you became a Defender.”  
Gerard nods. “It’s why I was so determined to become the best. That’s why I thought that this case would be the same…” he trails off.   
“Was?”  
“I’m not so sure anymore,” Gerard admits. “I saved you, didn’t I? I should have killed you, I wanted to. You were part of the Organization, that was all I knew about you, that you were one of the people that had killed my parents. But as soon as I met you, as soon as I learned about your past, I just couldn’t. Yes, maybe part of it was the fact that you were more helpful dead than alive. But I knew that if I did it, I would be just like them.”  
“You are an enigma,” Frank says softly. “Gerard Way. The Defender, the best Defender who wants to destroy his enemy but couldn’t kill me. The Lead Defender who chooses to live out in the Third Sector with the middle class rather than at the top, which is rightfully yours. You are a mystery, aren’t you?”  
“So are you,” Gerard blurts out. “I mean, the twelve year old boy who escapes from an orphanage and disappears, who turns up six years later as an assassin who killed three people and is working for a terrorist Organization.”  
Frank shrugs, looking away. “I guess it’s my turn now, isn’t it?”  
Gerard watches him. “Yeah.”  
“Where to start?” Frank draws his knees up to his chest. “You know the beginning, don’t you? My parents were killed in a car crash when I was ten. I got taken to Care Home 6 because no one else wanted me.” Gerard is about to protest but Frank cuts him off. “Orphanages are where kids who aren’t wanted go. You can’t argue with that. When the Principality thinks that a kid isn’t good enough, not high enough standing like you and Mikey were, they send us to Care Homes. They sent me to one.”  
“The Principality is good,” Gerard argues. “They built the Care Homes for the kids who had nowhere to go. It’s not because they are worthless. It’s because they wanted to help.”  
“Are they?” Frank asks. “Do they really? Which one of us grew up in a Care Home?” Frank has him there, Gerard has to admit. “Besides, you visited my old Care Home, didn’t you? You saw how rundown it was.”  
Gerard hesitates before nodding, thinking back to Care Home 6, the door with the peeling paint, the kids cramped into the small rooms.   
“After that,” Frank plunges on, not giving Gerard a chance to respond. “I left when I was twelve.” He stops, staring at the blankets.   
“Why?” Gerard prompts. “Were you forced to?”  
Frank hesitates, opening, then closing his mouth. “No. Because I chose to,” he mumbles at last. 

“You chose to work for the Organization?” Gerard exclaims. “Didn’t you know about the people they killed? Didn’t you know how bad they were?”  
Frank shrugs. “I was mad. I was young. I saw the injustice at the Care Home and how the Principality didn’t care for us. I was a twelve year old kid who couldn’t see past the next day so yes, I chose to join them.”  
“You said you didn’t have a choice—”  
“I’m getting to that,” Frank shifts uncomfortably. “Just please, let me finish.”  
Gerard nods. “Okay.”

Frank takes a deep breath. “Someone had been keeping an eye on the Care Home. Before you ask, no, I don’t know who. But they contacted me. I never saw their face. They left notes and messages for me. They praised me, told me how well I did in school, told me that the Principality was wrong to leave us alone. And I agreed. They gained my trust. I guess it wasn’t that hard. I was one out of twenty eight kids taken care of by one old woman. Anyone paying me attention would have gotten something out of me.”  
“What happened then?” Gerard asks softly.   
“I started to meet with them,” Frank says. “They left times and locations. I snuck out of the house. It was never the same location or the same place. They gave me a gun and trained me. At first, I thought it was just fun, ya know? Entertainment. I got picked on a lot and they were teaching me how to fight back. I didn’t know what it was for. I didn’t realize what they were until much later.”  
He stops, staring at the blankets. On impulse, Gerard reaches over, taking Frank’s hand in his.   
“Then?”  
“Then they gave me a choice,” Frank mumbles. “They told me that I could either live, enslaved to the Principality or I could come with them. I chose to go with them. So I ran away. There was a black van waiting for me and I got in. I woke up later in the barracks and realized what had happened. They trained me more than before for the next three years. Started me on small tasks, then gradually as I proved my worth, they started giving me more and more important stuff. I never knew their plan. I just followed my orders. I would go back to the barracks when they told me do, shoot whoever they told me to. I never met anyone else on the job, not even the people who trained me. Well except for—nevermind.”  
“Who?”  
“A friend,” Frank answers, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “But I’m not going to tell you about her because I need to keep her safe. She helped me, so I have to do the same for her. Other than her, I was alone for most of it. I had a contact that would give me assignments when I was out of the barracks, but I don’t even know who they were. Most of the time, I didn’t even know who I was killing. Well, I knew their name and stuff, but I didn’t know the real impact. I was just a drone, you know, carrying out orders. I was one of their best, but it didn’t matter. Nothing ever really mattered.”  
“But you don’t know who you work for?”  
“Well, who are you working for?” Frank asks, catching him off guard.  
“What?” Gerard stares at him. “The Principality, obviously.”  
“But who? Where do your orders come from? The President? Someone who works for him? Who?”  
Gerard stares at him, then laughs. “You’ve got me there.”  
“We’re not so different, are we?” Frank asks softly. “Caught, working for people we don’t know.”  
Gerard smiles at that. “I guess not.”  
“We’re both orphans, caught up, working for someone we don’t know, carrying out day to day tasks. The best of our respective offices, even if they are opposites. Until we met each other.”  
Gerard nods. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’ve been wrong all along—”  
“Don’t be. What you said was true. I’m a killer.”  
“So am I,” Gerard admits. “I was supposed to kill you after all, wasn’t I?”

Frank stares at him, his face illuminated in the colorful lights shining through the window. He looks like he wants to say something, but he lapses into silence again, his gaze locked on Gerard’s just a bit too long, longer than a normal person’s would.

Gerard kisses him. 

It’s not their first kiss but it sure feels like it. Frank’s lips are soft against his as Frank kisses him back instantly, warmth spreading through Gerard’s body. Gerard realizes what he’s doing a second too late, pulling away. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard backs away, running his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry. That was unprofessional. I really shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I won’t—”  
“Gerard, it’s fine,” Frank reaches out to him.   
“You certain? I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I don’t want you to think that you have to do this just because of all of this or to save your own life—”  
“I mean, I did ask you to hook up with me at the bar,” Frank says. “You did say yes. And you brought me to your motel room.”   
Gerard laughs. “I did, didn’t I?”  
“So are you going to kiss me or not?” Frank asks. 

Gerard smiles as he leans over, kissing Frank. Frank tangles his fingers in Gerard’s hair, kissing him again. Gerard presses the two of the backward, falling forward onto the bed, Frank beneath him. He can’t stop smiling into the kiss, so much so that Frank starts to laugh, when he disentangles himself from Gerard, sitting up. 

“This has got to be the weirdest, huh?” Frank asks. “I mean, you are supposed to kill me.”  
“I guess I should have expected this to happen,” Gerard admits, reaching over and tucking a loose strand of hair behind Frank’s ear. “The rest of my team saw this before I did. Oh god, Ray is going to be so full of it.”  
“If only I knew that it was just because you wanted to kill me. Should I ask if you’re about to now?” Frank is smiling, but his eyes are wary, watching Gerard as if he’s afraid of the answer.  
Gerard holds his hands out. “I’m unarmed. Not this time, no. I’m sorry about last time.”  
“You should be,” Frank answers without a hint of bitterness. “But if you need help taking down the Organization, and I know you will, I will help. You’re right. The Principality has done nothing for me, but I can’t let other kids be taken like I was.”  
“Thank you,” Gerard says softly.   
Frank blushes, glancing away. “I just hope I prove myself to you,” he answers. “I do want to help, I promise.”  
“Can I trust you?” Gerard asks.   
Frank looks up at him, meeting Gerard’s gaze. “Yes,” he says softly.


	4. The Carriage Of Flames

“Out of everyone you fall in love with. It’s with the person you were supposed to kill.”

That is Ray’s first remark when Gerard walks into the office building the next morning. He and Mikey are sitting at the large table in the middle of their office, smirking at him. Gerard pulls out a chair, dropping his notebook on the table and joining them. 

“Oh sorry,” Gerard throws his hands up. “I can’t exactly control it.”  
“Well, I get the five dollars,” Ray says. “Mikey, hand it over.”  
“Gerard, you’ve been with like three people,” Mikey continues as he slides Ray the money.  
“I’ve been with more than that,” Gerard protests.  
“I mean in a serious relationship with.”   
“Is anything he told me useful?” Gerard asks, ignoring Mikey.   
Ray shrugs. “We’ll look into it. I’ve been searching for any places that could be the barracks he is talking about.”  
“But I was right,” Gerard says with a hint of smugness. “He was forced into it. It’s not his choice.”  
“Maybe,” Ray muses. “But it still doesn’t answer the question of where the Organization is or what exactly it is that they want.”  
“They want to destroy the Principality,” Gerard frowns. “Obviously.”  
“But why? What’s their reasoning? And it’s not just the Principality, is it? They aren’t harming ordinary citizens, well except for the kids in the Care Homes. It’s government officials they are targeting.”  
“To disrupt the stability?” Mikey suggests. “That’s one way to do it.”  
“I guess so,” Ray says. “But it seems strange, don’t you think? All of the Organization’s hits have been focused on the First Sector and the seat surrounding the presidency.”  
“Anything else they have in common?”  
“I’ll look into it,” Mikey jots something down on a piece of paper. “Anything else we could have missed? A thousand more hours of video for us to watch?”  
“Can we come over?” Ray asks.   
Gerard shrugs. “I guess so. I’ll ask him about the kills and see if there is any way we can find out where the Organization is working from.”  
“You do that,” Ray says, smirking. “Don’t get distracted.”  
Gerard flips him off. “I’m not a thirteen year old kid.”  
“You act like one,” Mikey mutters.   
“Seriously, Gerard.” Ray leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “I know you trust him. I just want you to be careful.”  
“Just cause he worked for the Organization?” Gerard asks. “Really? He’s helping us.”  
“He lived with them for six years,” Mikey points out. “You’ve known him for what, five days? A week? Do you really think that his feelings for you or anything like that would beat his loyalties for them?”  
Gerard stares at him. “He’s not working for them anymore. He’s helping us now.”  
“Gerard, we’re just asking you to be careful.”  
“I am!” Gerard shouts. “I trust him, okay? He’s fine. I promise, I have it under control. Just because he works for the other side doesn’t make him a bad person.”  
“We never said that. I just said that he’s an assassin and you don’t know what he’s thinking. You might think you know him, but you don’t really.”  
“What happened to the Gerard who was so intent on killing the Organization?” Mikey asks. “You were determined to be the best Defender, you didn’t care who you killed. You never thought about our other targets like this, you never even considered the fact that they were people too. They were just a means for you to get to the top. Why is this any different?”  
“We just want you to be cautious,” Ray soothes. “We’re not saying that he’s a bad person, we’re just saying that Frank has been on the wrong side of things for a long time and you can’t trust him too fast. I’m not saying this because I think he’s bad, I just think that we have to proceed cautiously.”  
“I am,” Gerard says, frustrated. “I really am, I promise. I am being careful. I’m the same person, Mikey. I’ve just grown. I learned that not everything that I thought was true and maybe, yes that caused me to change. But if it makes you feel better, I promise I’ll be careful.”   
“Just this whole thing is giving me a bad feeling,” Ray says. “All of it.”  
“How?”   
“I don’t know. Something is off, I can’t exactly explain it.”  
“I asked Brian about how they found out that Frank was part of the Organization in the first place,” Mikey says all of a sudden.  
“Didn’t he get shot?” Ray asks. “And someone recognized him.”  
“Yeah, except Frank doesn’t remember that happening,” Gerard sighs. “I asked him and he has no recollection of being shot.”  
“Weird,” Ray mutters, writing something down on a notepad.   
“That’s what’s bothering me. Someone is lying about all of this. I doubt it’s Brian, he’s just passing off the information.”  
“Someone higher up?” Ray asks. Gerard thinks back to his conversation with Frank. _Who is he really working for? Who controls the Defenders? Who do his orders come from?_  
“Maybe,” Mikey ponders. “But why? Who would want to lie about this? Frank is part of the Organization. It wouldn’t matter how the information was received, unless…”  
“Unless whoever it is is trying to cover it up,” Ray finishes. “Meaning that whoever it is could possibly be part of the Organization.”  
“Oh, great,” Gerard groans. “Exactly what we needed, more confusion.”  
Mikey shrugs. “I’ll look into it. I doubt I’ll find anything though. Whoever it is has gone to great lengths to keep it secret.”  
“They just didn’t expect for Gerard to talk to Frank,” Ray puts in. “Or for Frank to still be alive.”  
“But who would want him dead?” Mikey asks.   
“Did he see something he was not supposed to?” Ray wonders. “That’s the only reason why someone who works for the Organization and the Principality would give him away.”  
“Let’s just deal with this first,” Gerard sighs. “One step at a time, right? We can deal with this mystery after we catch the Organization.”  
“Just be careful,” Mikey warns. “If it’s not Frank, then someone else is involved in this and it just got more complicated.”  
“This means that you have to be even more cautious,” Ray continues. “Because if it's not just the Organization, then it means that you might be dealing with more than you can handle.”  
“I will,” Gerard insists. “I always am careful.” But he can tell from the glance that Mikey and Ray exchange that they aren’t so sure.

*

“Could we meet up with your contact?” Gerard asks Frank as the two of them sit in his living room, holding warm cups of tea. “The one that was supposed to give you your assignment?”  
“Doubtful,” Frank shakes his head. “They probably know I’m dead.”  
“How?” Gerard asks. “Then why were you scared that would they look for you?”  
“Because they know everything,” Frank answers. “I don’t know how, but they do. They always find a way to know everything. How do you think they’ve been able to kill so many people and still stay hidden?”  
Gerard thinks back to his conversation with Ray and Mikey. _Could there be someone working for both the Organization and the Principality? Is there anyone he can really trust?_ “Could you at least try it?” Gerard asks. “I can’t think of anything else we could do to find them.”  
Frank shrugs. “I’ll see. But they’ll know that I’m alive.”  
Gerard frowns. “That’s true. But the Principality wouldn’t know, would they?”  
“I guess not. I’ll try it,” Frank says.   
“What do you need?”  
“A phone,” Frank says. “Preferably one that’s not traceable, otherwise they’re going to know where I am and that you’re involved. 

A knock sounds on the door. Frank flinches, rising half out of his chair before Gerard holds a hand out to him.   
“It’s my team. I’ll get it.”  
Frank nods, settling back into his chair as Gerard walks to the door. Gerard peers outside, make sure that it’s Mikey and Ray before opening the door. 

“Hey,” Ray nods at him.   
“Why does your apartment have to be so far away and hard to get to?” Mikey complains.   
“Stop whining about it, I’ve had it for three years,” Gerard sighs.  
“Did you make any progress?” Mikey asks, pushing his way past Gerard into the apartment. He stops when he sees Frank.  
“Hi,” Frank says. He’s risen out of his chair, standing there awkwardly.   
“Frank, this is Ray and my little brother, Mikey. Ray and Mikey, you know this already, but this is Frank.”  
“Hello,” Ray waves at Frank. “How are you?”  
“Fine, I guess,” Frank answers. “Thanks.”  
“No problem,” Ray responds.   
“So, what did you guys need?” Gerard asks. “Did you find anything else?”  
“Nope. We left Pete’s team in charge of that,” Mikey explains.   
“Do you need me to go?” Frank asks. “I can—”  
“No, stay. We might need your information,” Gerard says.   
Frank nods, sinking back into his armchair. 

“The Organization has been responsible for the deaths of at least twenty people over the past five years,” Gerard says. “All of the government officials, in pretty high up places. The leader of the Defenders five years ago, the vice president before Hart, the president before Williams. A handful of random senators and congresspeople. The leaders of other departments.”  
“There’s no connection,” Mikey sighs. “Could it just be random hits?”  
“Why Preston? Why President Garcia, why Senator Vega?” Gerard turns to Frank. “There must be a connection, a reason.”  
“I don’t know,” Frank says. “Like I said before, I just do the jobs. I barely know anything about them.”  
“Were any of them involved with anything before they were killed?” Mikey asks.  
“I don’t know about Garcia,” Ray says. “But Preston was working on a case with Hart.”  
“Oh!” Mikey snaps his fingers. “The Care Home one, right? Vega was working with him.”  
“The Care Homes?” Frank looks up. “What about them?”  
Mikey glances over at him. “The bill to redo the system for orphanage children. Preston and Vega were for it, saying it would give children in less fortunate situations the chance to rise up in society. Hart and Senator Gibbs were against it, stating the current turmoil of the economy as the reason that there aren’t enough positions for those in fortunate situations to get jobs, let alone those in Care Homes.”  
“Interesting,” Gerard mutters.  
“What were you even doing in the Sixth Sector?” Ray asks, looking at Frank.  
Frank shifts in his chair. “I was staking out,” he replies. “They didn’t give me my kill order yet. You guys took me out before they could.”  
“What is even out there that is so important?” Mikey wonders. “Can’t be too hard to find, right? Any politicians?”  
“I guess we could,” Ray muses. “I can’t think of anything off the top of my head. I’ll have to check the database and see if any politicians moved out there recently. I can’t image why though.”  
“Find out who it could be,” Gerard says. “Then what they are working on and how that connects. We need to find the Organization’s motive. Maybe we could predict who they are going to hit next.”  
“What will you do?”  
Gerard glances over at Frank. “We’re going to find the Organization.”

After seeing Ray and Mikey out, Gerard leads Frank out onto the street, a cap pulled low over Frank’s face to shield him from the view of anyone walking by. 

The two of them crowd into a phone booth at the end of the street. It’s too cramped, Gerard’s back pressed against the wall, Frank’s knee digging into his leg. Gerard watches as Frank dials a number, holding the receiver to his ear. 

“Nothing,” Frank shakes his head. “It’s ringing out. I usually meet them in person at the location they tell me. Usually they contact me where I’m staying, so if I haven’t, they probably know that something is up.”  
“Try again?” Gerard whispers.   
Frank shrugs, redialing the number, his fingers moving on the number pad. He holds the phone out before him, letting Gerard hear the dial tone. The two of them jump when they hear the click.  
“Hello, this is Agent Iero,” Frank says into the phone, his tone clipped and formal. “Reporting back to base. I’m wondering what my next mission is, I—”  
There’s the sound of garbled talking, then a loud beep before Frank lowers the phone, staring at Gerard.   
“They hung up,” Frank looks up at him, his hazel eyes wide. “I don’t know what that means.”

*

Gerard is the only one in the office when he walks in. Ray and Mikey had taken off earlier that night after searching for hours and finding nothing. It’s his turn now, he supposes. Gerard left Frank in his apartment, not caring to tie him up anymore. 

The call to the Organization bothers him. Gerard knows that they shouldn’t have, but its too late now. Why would they just hang up though? Unless they knew that Frank was supposed to be dead. But how would they know that? Something is missing here, Gerard knows that, but he just doesn’t know what. 

Gerard moves over to his desk, glancing around the dark office. Papers are strewn across the tables, probably from Ray and Mikey, empty cups of coffee sitting on the tables. It’s a mess, but their office usually is. Gerard searches for a pen, glancing over to his desk and stopping short when a small red envelope catches his eye. 

He crosses the room, picking up the envelope. It’s addressed to him, just his name: Gerard Way on the front. Gerard frowns as he opens it, sliding the note out.

_We know he’s alive._

Gerard races home, not caring to shut the office door. He brushes past Ray and Mikey, both of whom turn, calling back to him, but Gerard doesn’t care. His hands shake as he puts the key in the ignition, tires skidding on the road as he speeds toward home. 

Gerard takes the steps two at a time as he runs to his floor.   
“Frank?” he shouts, knocking on the door. “Frank, are you there?”  
The door swings open, revealing Frank’s pale face.   
“Thank god.” He throws his arms around Frank, pulling him close. “Are you okay?”  
Frank nods. “Gerard, what—”

Gerard hands him the note. Frank scans it, though instead of fear, there is just resignation on his face. He reaches into his pocket and hands Gerard a similar note also enclosed in a red envelope. 

Gerard takes it from him, scanning it quickly before pulling out the one that he received. There’s no doubt about it, it's the same handwriting. 

_You’re dead, Iero._

“Someone slipped it under the door this morning,” Frank says quietly. “They know I’m alive. They’re coming for me.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “I’m not going to let it happen.”  
“I knew this would happen from the beginning,” Frank says softly.   
“No,” Gerard says. “It’s not going to happen. Who could it be? The Principality? The Organization?”  
Frank shrugs. “I don’t think it matters anymore. Whichever one it is, I’m in trouble.”  
“We both are.”  
“Not if you turn me in.”  
Gerard stares at him. “No! Absolutely not.”  
“It’s true. I don’t matter anyway. I knew that I was dead from the moment you set eyes on me.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “No,” he mutters. “No, I’ll find a way to stop them.”   
“Think about it this way,” Frank murmurs. “At least you’ll have your perfect record back.”  
“You think I fucking care about that?” Gerard hisses.   
Frank shrugs, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s the only way.”  
“I need you,” Gerard says. “I can’t defeat the Organization without you, I can’t find them without you. Frank, I can’t do this without you, please.”  
Frank looks up, finally meeting Gerard’s eyes. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.” 

There’s the sound of a knock on the door. Gerard freezes, pulling Frank closer to him. He hands Frank a gun, knowing Ray would scream at him if he saw. But he trusts Frank more than he trusts whoever is after them.   
“Run,” he hisses. “I’ll meet you at the car.”  
“Wait—” Frank says but Gerard cuts him off with a kiss, pushing him toward the open window.  
“I’ll see you later,” Gerard says, meaning it. “Go.”

Frank hesitates, but he turns, swinging himself out the window. He gazes back at Gerard one more time before he disappears out of sight. 

Gerard reaches for the handle of the door, his hand moving to the gun in the back of his jeans. He peers out the peep hole, seeing Pete’s team standing there. Gerard glances back one more time, making sure that Frank is gone before he pulls open the door.

“Well hello there boys,” Gerard smirks, “What brings you out here on this lovely day?”

Pete frowns at him, his gun pointed at Gerard’s chest.   
“Agent Way, we don’t want any trouble. Just give him to us.”  
Gerard holds his hands up. “Come in then. If you find him, you can kill him.”

Pete hesitates, then motions the other men with him to brush past Gerard into his apartment.   
“Gerard, what are you doing?” Pete hisses. “I thought you were going to keep him out of sight.”  
“I did!” Gerard whispers back. “I don’t know how they found out that quickly.”  
“Me either,” Pete mutters.   
“Where’s your team?” Gerard glances at the men searching through his apartment. He doesn’t catch sight of Pete’s usual team. “Where’s Patrick, Joe and Andy?” If it were them, he might be able to reason his way out.  
“They wouldn’t let me take them,” Pete says. “Something about liability. They sent half of Quadrant Blue with me.”  
Gerard gapes at him. “Wow,” he mutters. “They took this more seriously than I thought.”  
“Schechter’s pissed at you. So are Mikey and Toro.”  
“I know,” Gerard sighs. “I’m pissed at me too.”  
Pete gives him a look. “I don’t know how you’re going to get out of this one, Way.”  
Gerard presses his lips together. “I’ll find something. I have to.”

“He’s not here,” one of the Quadrant Blue soldiers says.  
“Took you long enough,” Gerard mutters.   
“Agent Way,” Pete says, all trace of the friendliness he had shown when it was just the two of them, gone. “Tell us where he is.”  
Gerard shrugs. “He’s gone.”  
Pete sighs. “Gerard, I really don’t want to do this,” he mutters in Gerard’s ear.   
“Then don’t.”

Pete moves back. “Agent Way, I’m going to have to take you in if you don’t reveal where Iero is.”  
Gerard nods. “Okay,” he says.   
Pete nods. “You’ll come willingly?”  
“Yep,” Gerard sighs. “I will surrender peacefully, no need to drag me away, what else do you want me to say?”  
Pete rolls his eyes. “That’s probably enough.” He waves the Quadrant out the door, letting them file past Gerard.   
“Well, Way,” he says. “I do hope that no unfortunate accident allows you to escape because that would be just terrible.”  
Gerard grimaces. “I’m sorry already, Pete.”  
Pete nods. “Good luck. Do it.”

So he punches Pete in the face. Gerard sees the Quadrant turn back, drawing their guns as Pete doubles over, but Gerard is out the window already, the wind rushing past him as he climbs, following the light rails. Gunshots ring out above, but by the time the Quadrant gets to the window, Gerard has reached the ground and is sprinting, running toward the parking lot. 

Frank jumps up when he sees Gerard, his eyes wide.  
“Go!” Gerard motions him aside as he climbs into the front seat, the engine spluttering.   
“What happened?” Frank asks, but Gerard is too busy hitting the gas to answer as the Quadrant runs around the building. Gunshots ring through the air, bullets pinging off the bumper of the car as the two of them speed into the darkness. 

*

“Gerard, what did you do?” Brian asks over the phone, his voice slightly distorted in the speakers.   
“If I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me that in the past week, I’d be rich by now,” Gerard replies. He and Frank are parked in an empty parking lot somewhere near the edge of the Fifth Sector, Frank keeping watch. They lost the Quadrant a while ago, but Gerard knows that they can’t be far away. Under the cover of darkness, he thinks they might have bought themselves some more time.   
He can practically see Brian rolling his eyes. “Way, seriously. How do they know that Frank is alive?”  
“We’ve been trying to figure that out too,” Gerard says. “What do they think happened?”  
“Well, word on the street is that Frank somehow forced you into this. He threatened you and you gave in to help someone. I don’t think they want to mention that their lead Defender somehow took off with a so called enemy. But I think that Quadrant Blue’s and Pete’s account is going to change that story.”  
“How is Pete?” Gerard asks, guilt flashing through him.  
“He has a nasty bruise and he told me that he is going to lie and say Frank attacked him and made you take him away. But I don’t know if anyone is going to buy that.”  
Gerard sighs. “Great. Just great.”  
“Where are you? Actually, wait don’t tell me. I don’t know how well I can lie to them.”  
“What’s going on, Schechter? Do you know where they are?”  
“I should be asking you that, but I guess I’m not the best at following orders either. They’re looking for you, I think in the Fourth Sector right now. They’ve ruled out the First and Second and put them under lockdown right now. They don’t know I’m calling you right now. Ray and Mikey are in questioning right now. The Defenders are trying to figure out how much they know. I think I’m going to be up next. I’m supposed to be looking for you, but I’m kinda failing at that job.”  
“Even better,” Gerard sighs. “Do you know if Ray or Mikey found anything?”  
“Give me a second, Ray left me a note. They found someone just before they were taken into questioning.” Theres the sound of rustling before Gerard hears Brian’s voice again. “Senator Rhodes. That’s who you’re looking for, who Frank is supposed to be looking for.”  
“Did you alert the Defenders?”  
“Already did. They just took him into security.”  
“What was he doing out there?”  
“I hate to say this,” Brian sighs. “But you were right, Gerard. It’s all connected, somehow. The Care Homes. He is working on the proposal, he took up Vega’s position after she died.”  
Gerard breathes out slowly. “Wow. It’s good to hear you say that.”  
“Fuck off, Way.”  
“But why? How is it all connected? It doesn’t make any sense. What’s with the Care Homes that are so important that the Organization wants to kill all three people working on it?”  
“Ask Frank? He lived at a Care Home, didn’t he? I—” Brian’s voice cuts out.  
“What is it?” Frank asks. “What’s going on?”  
Gerard looks over at Frank. “What do they want with the kids?”  
“The kids?” Frank echoes.  
“The Care Homes. It’s all connected. I don’t know how though.”  
Frank frowns. “The Care Homes? I haven’t heard anything about it.”  
“I can’t think of anything either,” Gerard sighs. “The proposal and that’s it. What would the Organization want with—”   
“Have there been any other disappearances from the Care Homes?” Gerard asks slowly. “Besides Frank, I mean.”  
“A bunch from each,” Brian says, confused. “But I don’t know what you’re going for—Way, I have to go. Ray and Mikey are going to look for you. Good luck, I—”  
“Brian?” Gerard asks. There’s no response. Gerard sighs as he puts his phone down.

Frank hands him back the gun. “Here,” he says.   
Gerard looks over at him. “What?”  
Frank shrugs. “Here’s the gun back.”  
“Keep it. I don’t know when you might need it.”  
“You trust me with this?” Frank asks, staring at him.   
“If you wanted to shoot me, you would have done it already.”  
Frank hesitates, then nods, tucking the gun back into his waistband. “Thanks, I guess.”  
Gerard shrugs. “No problem. I trust you.”

Care Home 6. The memory flashes through his mind. The little girl and her first reaction when she had seen him. Actually, the reactions of all the children in the Care Home. Gerard remembers how they hid from him.

_“Are you one of the bad guys?”  
“You looked like the bad guys that came.”  
“The men with guns.”  
“They talked to Tommy though.”_

“Oh,” Gerard gasps. “Oh my god.”  
“What?” Frank is instantly alert, looking over at him.   
“Care Home 6.”  
“What about it?” Frank asks.  
“When you lived there, did you see Defenders?” Gerard asks.  
Frank shakes his head. “Like I told you, no one came to see us. No one cared.”  
“Exactly,” Gerard says. “When I went to find out more about you, I saw the kids there. One of them asked me if I was one of the bad guys.”  
“The Organization?”  
“That’s what I was thinking,” Gerard says. “It makes sense right? The Organization gets their members from the Care Homes. They got you from there.”  
“I guess so,” Frank responds. “But I never saw them. They never talked to me face to face.”  
“They might have changed their ways,” Gerard says.   
“I guess it's not surprising that they would come for others beside me,” Frank sighs. “I wasn’t the only one they took from the Care Home.”  
“You weren’t?”  
Frank shakes his head. Gerard thinks back to their conversation. “Your friend,” he says.  
“Yeah,” Frank gives him an unreadable glance. “Him. So what do you suggest we do?”  
“I’m not certain.”  
“Do you think we can find the Organization through the kids at the Care Home?” Frank asks.   
“They’ll be there to pick up the next round of kids.” Tommy, Gerard remembers. The little boy that he was told about.   
“We have to stop them,” Frank urges. “I can’t let the same thing happen to them like it did to me.”  
“How? When you left with them, how did you know where to go?”  
“They will tell Tommy where to meet them. If we get there before he or any of the others leave, we can stop it. We can go in their place.”  
“Won’t they know?”  
“Not until it’s too late.”  
Gerard grins at him. “Frank, you’re a genius.”  
“I am,” Frank laughs, elbowing Gerard. “Now drive or we are going to miss them.”  
Gerard does as he’s told, speeding away into the night. 

*

It’s harder to find the Care Home in the darkness. Gerard nearly drives off the long and twisting road at several points, the lights from the headlights glancing off of the trees. The entire time, he keeps an eye on the rearview mirror, expecting to see the flashing lights and hear sirens at any minute, but there are none. Other than the crackle of static from the radio and the occasional burst of music or voices, everything is silent. Frank keeps an eye on Gerard’s phone, texting someone, Gerard assumes its Ray, Mikey, or Brian. But there’s no news from the Defenders, no sign of anyone else. Gerard doesn’t know if that is a good or a bad thing, but he decides not to dwell on it. 

He pulls up the long driveway to the gates of Care Home 6. Gerard slams the brakes as the gate appears, illuminated by his headlights. He shuts off the car, his boots crunch on the gravel as he slams the door of the car. Frank follows him, staring at the Care Home. In the darkness, the house is illuminated by the dim glow from several windows, curtains blocking most of the light. A lamp flickering halfway down the muddy path, barely illuminating the way. 

Frank lags a few steps behind as he follows Gerard to the gate.  
“What is it?” Gerard asks, turning to him.   
“I haven’t been back here in six years,” Frank sighs. “It’s just…weird. I left never intending to be back here again. I don’t know how to feel.”   
Gerard reaches over, taking Frank’s cold hand in his. “You ready?”  
Frank nods. “Let’s go.”

The gate creaks as Gerard pushes it open with his free hand. Not letting go of Frank’s hand, he walks down the muddy pathway, his sneakers splashing in the cold water. He glances over, seeing Frank’s face illuminated in the dim light of the lamp. 

He can hear voices as they near the house, the loud raucous sound of children yelling and laughing. Through the half parted curtains, Gerard sees a few kids chasing each other around in the living room. Frank glances over, an expression of longing on his face. 

Gerard lifts his hand, knocking on the green door. The sound echoes across the quiet night as Gerard squeezes Frank’s hand. Frank squeezes his hand back immediately.   
“You okay?” Gerard whispers.   
“Yeah,” Frank sighs. “I will be.”

When no one responds, Gerard gives the door a little push. It’s unlocked and swings open, revealing the dark hallway. He glances at Frank before stepping inside the warm air. A light is on in the back of the house and he can hear a few kids yelling and the clinking of utensils. 

“Hello?” he calls. The sound of voices dies away instantly as Gerard sees a few heads poke around the doorframe before ducking back inside. There’s the hushed sound of whispering before an old woman chides a few of the kids. 

“Agent Way?” Sarah comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon. What else do you need? How is the search going? Did you find anything? ”  
Gerard takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Actually that’s why I’m here. It’s about—” He looks behind him toward the shadows.  
There is a soft sound as Frank steps out from around the corner, meeting Sarah’s gaze. 

A muffled thud echoes through the hallway as Sarah drops the towel.   
“Frankie?” Sarah asks. “Is that really you?”   
“Hi,” Frank responds, still standing there awkwardly.  
Sarah moves toward him and for a moment, Gerard almost thinks she’s going to slap Frank, but she instead hugs him. Frank hugs her back, burying his face in her shoulder.  
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for leaving,” Frank says, his voice muffled by the fabric.   
“I’m just glad that you’re safe,” she whispers. She glances up at Gerard. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you for bringing him back.”


	5. A Dance With Time

Gerard leans against the wall as Frank and Sarah talk. He listens to the kids talking in the kitchen, the steady clinking of utensils and the occasional yell. These kids have almost nothing, but somehow, they still seem to be doing all right. Gerard watches one of the older ones carrying a little boy and his hip, watching as an older girl passes a bowl of peas around the table. He wonders what it was like for Frank to grow up here. 

Gerard has never seen anything quite like this. In Kyotamo, in the main places of the Principality, he never sees this many people helping each other. There, everyone has everything. Here, the kids have nothing, but they still care for each other. He has to admit how much more he likes it than the city. What if he and Mikey had grown up in a place like this instead of Gerard fending for the two of them in the city? If he had lived here for the last year of his teenage years instead of joining the Defenders and fighting to make a living, how would life had turned out? 

“You’re the Defender.” The little girl is standing there in a pair of muddy overalls a few sizes too big for her, her blond hair done up in two pigtails. “Gerard.”  
“Hi, yes,” Gerard waves at her.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I brought my friend,” Gerard says. Frank is more than a friend, but he doesn’t exactly know how to describe him. “He used to live here, just like you.”  
“He’s the one who ran away, isn’t he?’ The girl’s eyes go as wide as moons. “Frank? Sarah used to tell us about him. I know she lied about the ending of the story.”  
Gerard smiles at that. “Is he the only one that has left?”  
She shakes her head. “No. There have been a lot of others. Josh, Dorian, April, Bob, Bert.” She frowns, counting on her fingers. “I think that’s it. Oh, wait! Madeline.”  
“That many?” Gerard asks, astounded.  
The little girl nods. “It happens every so often,” she says sagely. “Do you know what happens to them? Frank is the only one who has come back.”  
“I—”  
“Sarah says they leave because they are told to,” she continues, not letting Gerard speak. “But she’s lying, isn’t she? They always leave because they want to.”  
Gerard raises his eyebrows. “How do you know that?”  
The girl shrugs. “I just know. They always seem sad.”  
Wow. Gerard shakes his head. “What about your friend? Tommy?”  
The girl frowns. “I don’t know,” she says pensively. “I can’t tell with him. He won’t talk to me.”  
Gerard sighs. “I can try, if you want.”  
“Would you?” she looks up at him, her face glowing. “I think it would make him happier.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Julia,” she responds.  
“Well, Julia. How old are you?” Gerard asks.  
“Eleven,” she grins proudly at him. “I’m almost twelve.”  
“You’re going places, kid,” Gerard muses.  
“So are you a superhero?”  
Gerard laughs. “A superhero. Wow. No, I’m not. I just do my job.”  
“You keep us safe, don’t you?”  
“I used to think that,” Gerard sighs. “Now, I’m not so sure.”  
“Well when I grow up, I think I want to be like you,” she says.  
“Do you?” Gerard grins. “That’s sweet.”  
“Oh yeah,” Julia nods. “I’m going to be a superhero and save everyone. My enemies will cower before me!”  
Gerard smiles at her. “I have no doubt about that.”

The door around the corner creaks open and Julia jumps, an expression of guilt crossing her face as Sarah and Frank step out.  
“Julia! Are you pestering Agent Way?” Sarah scolds.  
Gerard flashes a glance at Frank, who smiles at him.  
“No, miss,” Julia bows her head.  
“It’s fine,” Gerard grins. “She was just asking me some questions.”  
Julia perks up. “See?” she sticks her tongue out.  
“Well, if you’re going to be like that, you can help them get settled,” Sarah sighs. 

*

Julia leads Frank and Gerard up to the attic, skipping up the steep flight of stairs as if it were nothing. She opens a heavy door at the end of the hall, wrinkling her nose as dust falls from the ceiling. A dim lightbulb flickers on, illuminating the mostly empty attic. Boxes are piled at the edges, worn labels peeling off from the sides.  
“Sarah says that this is the only place we have,” Julia says. “I can get you some blankets.”  
“Thank you,” Gerard says as she sprints down the stairs.  
“What I would give to be that energetic,” Frank sighs as Julia disappears.  
“You alright?” Gerard asks softly.  
“Yeah,” Frank glances up at him, a worn smile on his face. “I’m fine. Just tired.”  
Gerard can tell that something else is bothering him, but he doesn’t press, instead leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to Frank’s forehead.

The sound of light footsteps alerts them to Julia’s arrival as she dashes in, shoving a pile of blankets into Gerard’s hands before sprinting out again. Gerard laughs as he hears the voices of other kids as the door slams shut.  
“What is it? How was your talk with Sarah?”  
“It’s good to be back.” Frank sighs. “Just weird. I feel really bad for leaving.”  
“I get that,” Gerard says sympathetically. He gets to work, unfolding blankets and pillows. Frank kneels down next to him, spreading them out onto the ground. “You can’t blame yourself though. You were twelve.”  
“Still,” Frank says. “I should have known better. If only I could have realized how stupid I was being.”  
“Hey,” Gerard reaches over, forcing Frank to look at him. “Don’t say that. You can’t blame yourself for that.”  
Frank sighs, nodding. “I’ll get the light,” he says. The floorboards creak as he moves away, pulling the hanging cord to the light and plunging the two of them into darkness. 

The floor is hard and cold, but Gerard doesn’t care as he pulls the thick woolen blanket over himself. He hears a rustling as Frank lies down next to him.  
“Hey,” he whispers.  
“Hi,” Frank responds. Gerard hears him shift until Frank’s hand slips into his, Frank’s breath warm against his cheek. He cups Frank’s face in his hand, gazing at him in the faint light.  
“What are you thinking about?”  
“I wonder what would have happened if I never left,” Frank whispers. His face is illuminated in the dim light by the faint moonlight. “What would I have been then? I could have grown up here. Maybe I would have been happier. Gosh, Gerard, I was so stupid back then. I was so angry at the world, I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I saw the first chance to do something and I took it without thinking of the consequences.”  
“You can’t blame yourself for that.”  
“Can’t I? I killed people. Innocent people. I didn’t even question it at the time. It was a job and they were just targets. I never cared about it.”  
“You had to. I killed people too. If you blame yourself, blame me too. I did the exact same thing you did. I never cared either. Like you said, it was just a job.”  
Frank sighs. “I know,” he whispers. “It’s just hard to think about.”  
“Yeah,” Gerard murmurs. “But it’s the past and we can’t change that now.”  
“There’s one consolation for leaving,” Frank whispers.  
“Yeah? What is it?” Gerard asks.  
“If I stayed, I wouldn’t have met you.” 

Frank kisses him in the darkness, his eyelashes brushing gently against Gerard’s cheek. His lips are soft against Gerard’s, his hands tangling gently in Gerard’s hair. Frank pushes him onto his back, his body pressed against Gerard’s in the darkness. 

The cold air brushes against Gerard’s bare skin as he shrugs off his shirt, tossing it behind him. He slides his hand up the front of Frank’s shirt, hearing Frank gasp as Gerard tugs his shirt off. Frank leans down, recapturing his lips, his hands roaming over Gerard’s skin.  
“Wait,” Gerard gasps, pulling away.  
“What?” Frank asks.  
“I just don’t want you to think you have to do this,” Gerard says. “It’s completely up to you. We don’t have to if you’re not ready.”  
“Gerard—”  
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep with me to protect yourself.”  
“It’s not that, I promise,” Frank murmurs. He runs his hands over Gerard’s chest, making Gerard shiver. “I want you.”

He hears Frank gasp softly as Gerard flips them over, kneeling over Frank in the darkness, gazing down at him. Gerard kisses him, his hands roaming over Frank’s sides, feeling Frank trembling.  
“You okay?” Gerard breathes.  
“Of course,” Frank whispers.  
“We don’t have to do anything,” Gerard says. “It’s up to you. It doesn’t have to be more than this.”  
He sees Frank nod in the darkness, his hand tightening in Gerard’s hair. “Okay,” he whispers.  
“If you’re okay with it, I’d like to wait,” Gerard admits. “we could fuck at any time, hell we almost did when we first met. But I’d like it to be more than just a one night stand or anything like that with us.”  
“Of course, Gerard. Anything,” Frank kisses him. “I love you.”  
“I love you too. Soon,” Gerard tells him. “I promise.”  
Frank sighs. “Can I show you something?”  
“What?”  
Frank puts a finger to his lips. “It’s a secret. Come on.”  
He pulls on a sweatshirt, Gerard following his example. Gerard follows him toward the back of the attic. He watches as Frank feels along the wall before a click and a section of the wall swings open.  
“Woah,” Gerard whispers.  
“Pretty cool, huh?” Frank asks. “I found it when I was eleven and I was hiding up here.” He steps through the doorway, beckoning to Gerard. “Wait till you see this.”

They’re standing on the roof. On a narrow flat section hidden by the shingles on either side. From here, they have a view of the stars. Gerard gasps when he sees them. The city of Kyotamo is always bright, lit by artificial fluorescent colored lights, blocking out the natural darkness and the stars. He loves it, but it doesn’t even hold a candle to the stars. Gerard realizes how much he’s missed seeing them, the stars twinkling overhead in the velvet sky. 

“Beautiful, huh?” Frank whispers, leaning his head against Gerard’s shoulder. “I used to hide up here all the time. Pretend that my life wasn’t the way that it was.”  
“They’re not as beautiful as you.”  
“You’re so sappy,” Frank wrinkles his nose at Gerard.  
Gerard kisses the tip of his nose. “Maybe. But it’s true. You love it.” He can see how much Frank is blushing, even in the darkness.  
“Shut up.”  
“Make me,” Gerard says.  
Frank leans over, kissing him. “How’s that?”  
Gerard rolls his eyes, but he kisses Frank back, pulling him close. The wind chills them to the bone but Gerard doesn’t care, with Frank’s warm body nestled against his chest, with the stars shining overhead, he thinks they might actually have a chance, a chance to defeat the Organization.

*

They wake up together, cradled on the roof. Gerard blinks in the early morning light, gazing at his surroundings. He’s been so used to waking up in the city, surrounded by bright lights and tall buildings for so long that he’s forgotten what it’s like in the Sectors. Out here, in the outskirts of the Fifth Sector, the buildings are smaller, trees surrounding the houses instead. It’s quiet out here too, not like the noisy cars and bustling of the city. 

Gerard shakes Frank awake softly from where Frank is sleeping, his head tucked against the front of Gerard’s sweatshirt.  
“Morning,” he whispers.  
“Hi,” Frank mumbles against his chest. “Go away, I’m sleeping.”  
Gerard laughs at that. “Not anymore.”

Frank sighs, sitting up, his hair disheveled, clothes rumpled. “Did we fall asleep out here?”  
Gerard nods. “Yep.”  
“I used to do that all the time,” Frank laughs. “Sarah flipped out when she found out. She kept yelling that I would roll off the roof.”  
Gerard glances down over the edge at the ground. “It is kinda a far drop.”  
Frank shrugs. “What’s life without a little risk?”

The door sticks as Gerard shoves it open, the light illuminating the attic and the unused blanket setup. He can hear the sound of children talking downstairs and utensils clinking.  
“Already? It’s early for them to get up, isn’t it?” Gerard asks as he folds blankets.  
Frank shrugs. “Chores. We all had rotations.” He tosses a stack of blankets at Gerard, neatly folded unlike Gerard’s. “You suck.”  
“You do it then,” Gerard sighs, sitting back. He watches as Frank quickly folds his, stacking them in the corner. What would it have been like if he had grown up here instead of with Mikey in the city?

“Morning!” Sarah calls as the two of them enter the dining room. By then, most of the kids had cleared out, whether on their own accord or because they heard Gerard and Frank, he didn’t know. The other kids did seem pretty eager to see Frank, though too shy to actually approach him. They seemed scared of him though, probably because of the Defender’s badge that was glinting on his jacket the first time he had come through. Gerard had abandoned it in his office though. He couldn’t really claim that he was a Defender, at least not at this exact moment since they were kind of on the hunt for him and Frank. 

“Thank you again,” Gerard says.  
“Oh, no problem,” Sarah waves him off. “So, what did you guys need?”  
“Can we talk to Tommy?” Gerard asks.  
“Tommy?”  
“Yeah, we just had some questions.”  
Sarah nods. “He’s in the back, dealing with the laundry I think. I can get someone to show you.”  
“It’s fine, I know the way,” Frank says. “Gerard, come on.”

Frank leads him through a tiny doorway and down a twisting set of wooden stairs to a cement basement. Several washing machines take up the back wall, five or six kids managing or folding clothing. Someone has a radio set up, music blasting through the small, cramped room. When they catch sight of Gerard and Frank, they fall silent though.  
“Hi,” Frank waves at them. “Can we steal Tommy for a second?”  
“Yeah,” Julia pops up from behind a stack of clothes. “Hi! He’s in the back room. Come on.” She nimbly climbs over a stack of boxes and disappears through a doorway.  
Gerard exchanges a glance with Frank before he follows, jumping over the stack. 

The boy, Tommy, is sitting in the back room, writing something down on a sheet of paper. When he sees the three of them, he quickly crumples up the paper, standing up.  
“Tommy?” Gerard asks.  
“Yes?” the boy looks at him.  
“Can I ask you some questions?”  
Tommy shrugs. “Fine.” He crosses his arms.  
“How old are you?”  
“Twelve,” Tommy answers.  
“Have you been contacted by anyone recently?” Gerard asks.  
“Who are you?” Tommy scoffs. “Why do you want to know?”  
“I’m a Defender,” Gerard says. “I’m trying to find some dangerous people.”  
“And you think I know where they are? Why would I help you?”  
“Tommy,” Julia starts, but Tommy ignores her.  
“I just want to know if you’ve been contacted by anyone,” Gerard says.  
Tommy whirls on Julia. “You told him, didn’t you?”  
“You have then?” Gerard asks.  
“No,” Tommy spits. “Of course not. Not like anyone would care about me.”  
“Tommy!” Julia frowns at him. “He’s trying to help. You’re being rude, you know that?”  
“Jules, don’t,” Tommy pleads. “They don’t care for us, you know this. You’re my best friend, but please. I can’t do this.”  
“I know that,” Julia answers. “But he’s not like the others, okay? He actually cares. You think that they care about you? They’re no better. Tommy, please don’t.”  
Tommy shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Julia,” he says.  
“Tommy—” Julia begs, but Tommy pushes past her, shoving out the door. 

“That went over well,” Gerard mutters. “What do you think?” He looks over at Frank.  
“I don’t know,” Frank blows out his breath. “I can’t tell. He’s lying, I know that. But we can’t get it out of him any other way.”  
“Lying about what?” Julia has appeared in the hallway. “What about Tommy?”  
“Julia! Why don’t you show Frank around the garden.” Sarah saves Gerard from having to answer. “I need to speak with Agent Way.”  
“But—” Julia protests.  
“It’ll be fun,” Frank promises. “You can show me the tomato plants that Sarah told me you guys started growing.”  
The little girl hesitates, but she obliges, heading out the back door. Frank flashes Gerard another glance before he disappears after her. 

“Why don’t you take a seat,” Sarah sighs. “Did you find anything?”  
“Nothing yet,” Gerard says. “Thanks again for the help.”  
“Anything,” Sarah responds. “Anything to help these kids.”  
“So, Julia?”  
“Has she been bothering you?”  
“Oh no, quite the opposite,” Gerard smiles. “She’s very inquisitive.”  
Sarah nods. “Julia Martinez. She’s a brilliant young girl. Parents were murdered when she was eight. She saw the whole thing, the poor child. She’s great though, top of her classes, amazingly perceptive. I can’t hide anything from her.”  
“What about Tommy?”  
“Tommy,” Sarah says. “He’s a different story. Also a brilliant child, though as you probably noticed, much quieter and shyer than Julia is. Tommy’s parents are still alive. At least his mother is. She abandoned him here. His father was murdered.”  
“Who is she?”  
Sarah shakes her head. “I can’t tell you that. Before you ask why, it’s because I’m sworn to secrecy. He doesn’t know, he thinks that she is dead.”  
“Why would someone abandon their child?”  
Sarah shrugs. “Why does anyone do anything? I try not to ask questions, it only antagonizes them more. I only know that Tommy has never been quite the same after, the poor boy.”  
“One last question, have you seen anything strange lately?”  
Sarah frowns. “Strange in what sense?”  
“Kids leaving after dark, people around? Letters?”  
“Not that I know of,” Sarah sighs. “I am getting old though. Someone else will need to take over this place after I’m gone. I’m afraid no one else will though. No one wants these poor children, no one cares about them.”  
“I’m going to make sure someone does,” Gerard vows. “They’re brilliant, really. They don’t deserve a life like this.”

Gerard finds Frank and Julia in the backyard of the Care Home, Julia examining one of Gerard’s guns, Frank standing beside her with an exasperated expression.  
“I think Gerard will kill me if you shoot that,” Frank warns.  
“I know how it works,” Julia scoffs.  
“You can shoot?” Gerard asks. Julia and Frank both jump, flashing guilty looks at Gerard.  
“My ma taught me,” Julia shrugs. “She always said that I should protect myself.”  
“You’re a very dangerous kid aren’t you?” Frank laughs.  
“So are you,” Gerard elbows him.  
“Shut up.” Frank elbows him back.  
“So, Julia, do you want to show me how well you shoot?” Gerard asks, kneeling down.  
Frank glares at him. “Why am I not surprised that you’d let her?”  
“Because he’s amazing!” Julia crows, throwing her arms around Gerard’s neck. He hugs her back, surprised.  
“Thanks, kid,” he says, then quieter so she doesn’t hear. “Sarah is right, you are a brilliant child.”

*

They get nowhere with Tommy, who runs whenever he sees either the two of them or Julia. Gerard manages to keep Julia mostly entertained through the afternoon as Frank gets swarmed by the other kids in the orphanage, pestering him for stories. He looks back at the house, seeing Sarah standing there, a serene smile on her face as she watches the two of them with all the kids. She sees him watching, waving at him before turning to go back inside. 

Julia, true to her word, is a pretty good shot. She manages to hit most of the targets, then pesters Gerard and Frank to try, which quickly just turns into a shooting match between the two of them. Gerard has to admit that Frank is really fucking good, though he can’t help but show off a little bit in front of Frank, so much so that Frank kicks him in the shins. 

After, Gerard helps out around the house, watching as the kids slowly warm up to him enough to ask him a few questions. He’s determined to show them that not all Defenders and the Principality are bad. Maybe this way he can help show them that the Organization is not the right way to go. 

He glances around, looking for Frank, but he can’t catch sight of him.  
“Have you seen Frank?” he asks Sarah.  
She shakes her head. “I haven’t seen him in a bit. He probably went for a walk with some of the kids.”  
Sure enough, Frank returns a few hours later, out of breath and covered in mud.  
“Where were you?” Gerard asks.  
“Out,” Frank replies avoiding Gerard’s gaze as he places his gun on the table. “Wanted to see how much things have changed around here.” He glances up at Gerard, a strange expression on his face.  
“Well?”  
“Nothing really,” Frank mutters. He leans forward, kissing Gerard on the cheek. “Let’s go help Sarah.”  
Gerard watches him head into the kitchen, slightly puzzled. Frank seems off to him, though he doesn't quite know why. He’s probably just being paranoid again. 

It is nighttime when Gerard’s phone rings again. He fumbles with it, glancing at the caller ID, breathing out a sigh of relief as he sees that it’s Ray. 

“Ray?” he says. “Are you guys okay?”  
“Gerard Fucking Way,” Mikey yells. “I’m going to kick your ass.”  
“I’m assuming that’s a no,” Gerard responds.  
“We’re fine. Mikeys overreacting,” Ray sighs. “Interrogation sucked. I basically told them that Frank is a dangerous criminal and he kidnapped you and you were trying to trick him. I don’t know how much of it they bought.”  
“What happened? What’s going on right now?”  
“Don’t tell us where you are, I don’t want to lie again. But for once I am thanking the fact that you have an old ass shitty phone because they couldn’t track you through it,” Mikey yells. “But you need to be careful because they are probably going to find you soon.”  
“I knew all that,” Gerard sighs. “Get to the important stuff. The case. The Organization. It’s been mostly dead ends on our side.”  
“Yeah, actually,” Ray pauses, saying something to someone else, his voice muffled. “Come over. We are at Senator Rhodes’ place. I sent you the address.”

The stairs creak as the two of them slip down, fumbling in the darkness. Gerard left a quick, hastily scribbled note to Sarah in case they didn’t return in the morning. Frank leads him out the back door, then around the front of the yard and out the gates as Gerard starts the car, the two of them speeding off into the nighttime. 

The address that Ray sent is thankfully not too far away. He and Frank are the only ones who seem to be awake at this time, something that Gerard usually wouldn’t care about but tonight he does. One car on the road is easier to track than multiple. He is a Defender, he never had to worry about this before. But since meeting Frank and disobeying the orders, Gerard now knows what Frank’s life must always be like, keeping to the shadows and staying hidden. Frank is much better at him than this, so Gerard lets him take the lead, directing the car down narrow side streets and alleyways until they pull in front of a dark apartment complex. 

It’s raining as they slosh through the puddles, running up the front steps to the door. Gerard raps on it four times, three times quickly, one time slow. There’s a moment before it creaks open, revealing Ray’s drawn face. 

“Oh, thank god,” he says, pulling Gerard, then a surprised Frank into a hug. “God, I was worried that you’d get caught. Mikey’s gonna punch you.”  
“Is Brian here?” Gerard asks when Ray finally lets them go.  
Ray shakes his head. “He’s dealing with our superiors. Pete’s team is with him.”  
“So what is it?” Gerard asks. “Why did you want us to come all the way out here in the middle of the godforsaken night?”  
Ray laughs. “This way, come on.”

He leads the two of them down a narrow hallway, then up a steep flight of stairs. There are two sets of doors that Ray unlocks, letting Frank and Gerard pass in front of him before closing and locking securely. 

“Tight security,” Gerard comments.  
“Well, you know,” Ray says. “The Organization and goddamn assassins.” He glances over at Frank. “No offense, of course.”  
“None taken,” Frank replies easily. 

Ray leads them up another flight of stairs to an apartment, pulling out a set of keys. He sorts through them before inserting a small one into the lock and opening a door to reveal an apartment and a man sitting in an armchair.

“Senator Rhodes,” Gerard bows. “It’s good to see you.”  
“Hello, Agent Way. I’ve heard a lot about you. Thank you for keeping me safe.”  
“It wasn’t just me. It was my whole team. And Frank, here.”  
“Thank you for all the work you’ve done,” Frank says. “I’m sorry about—”  
“It was your job,” Rhodes waves it off. “It’s okay.”  
Frank blinks, obviously taken aback. “You’re not—”  
“Not everyone has a choice. That’s why we were working on the proposal. So kids like you don’t end up in situations.”  
Frank stares at him. “Thank you,” he whispers hoarsely. “You don’t know how much that means to me. Thank you.”  
“So, what is it?” Gerard asks.  
Ray sighs. “We just needed to check in with you somewhere where we couldn’t be overheard by anything.”  
“Well,” Mikey says, coming into the room, soaking wet. He pulls Gerard into a hug. “You are an idiot.”  
“I’ve heard,” Gerard sighs.  
“So Senator Rhodes is working on the proposal that Senators Preston and Vega were working on. Its about the Care Homes, which the Organization is involved with somehow. They don’t want the Care Home system to be changed.”  
“We think it’s because that’s where they are getting all their members,” Gerard cuts in. “Frank came from a Care Home. Several others have run away or vanished mysteriously under similar circumstances, probably to join the Organization as well. We are suspicious of several others as well.”  
“Any luck tracking them down?”  
“None yet,” Frank says. “But I think we might be able to soon.” He glances over at Senator Rhodes. “You need to be careful, sir. I know the Organization. They will do anything they can to kill you if they are set on it.” He glances at Ray and Mikey. “You too. They will attack when you least expect it. You can’t trust anyone. They exploit anyone and anything they can.”  
Mikey nods. “We’re on it,” he promises. “You two just need to find the Organization.”  
“Working on it,” Gerard sighs. “Easier said than done.”  
“Sums up our entire existence,” Ray sighs. “Now don’t get caught by the Defenders.”  
Gerard snorts. “The whole world after us,” he says dryly. “How hard can that be?”  
Frank laughs at that. “Welcome to my life.”

*

The ride back is silent except for the sound of rain pattering on the roof of the car. Gerard glances over at Frank several times, seeing Frank chewing on his bottom lip, staring out the window, lost in thought. The patterns of the raindrops rolling down the windshield cast strange shadows on Frank’s face, the street lamps illuminating his profile. 

“You okay?”  
Frank jumps. “Oh, yeah.”  
“What are you thinking about?”  
Frank shrugs. “I don’t know. Everything. Nothing.” He turns to face Gerard. “I’m sorry.”  
“About what?” Gerard asks, confused.  
Frank looks away. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “I just—in case anything happens or anything goes wrong, I want you to know that I love you. In case all of this goes downhill and I don’t get the chance to tell you, I want you to know that. I love you, Gerard. You saved my life, thank you for that. Thank you for everything really.”

Gerard pulls the car onto the side of the road, staring at Frank.  
“I love you too,” he says. “But nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. We’re going to get through this.”  
Frank stares at him, wide eyed. “You can’t promise that. You can’t know that.”  
“No, but I can try,” Gerard leans over, taking Frank’s face in his hands. “Okay?”  
Frank hesitates, then nods. “Okay,” he whispers. Gerard leans forward, kissing Frank gently. Frank unbuckles his seatbelt, climbing over the center console into Gerard’s lap. Gerard lets out a noise of surprise as he shuts off the car, pulling Frank close. His hands are cold against Frank’s warm skin as they roam under Frank’s shirt. Frank presses himself against Gerard, his hands tangling in Gerard’s hair.  
“Here?” Gerard pants out.  
Frank is breathing heavily as he pulls back, staring at Gerard. “Gee, I—” Frank starts, then trails off.  
“What’s wrong?” Gerard traces little circles on Frank’s hip. “You can tell me, baby.”  
Frank leans against his chest. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” Gerard answers, still puzzled. “But what’s wrong, Frankie?”  
Frank shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he says, shifting back into his seat. “I’m fine.”  
Gerard pulls the car back onto the road, knowing that Frank is lying but not knowing what to do. He glances back at Frank a few times but Frank refuses to meet his gaze. 

Something is wrong as the car pulls into the driveway. The lights are on in the house, casting a strange glow through the heavy downpour. Gerard slams the breaks, yanking his hood on as he jumps out of the car, Frank right behind him. He sloshes through the puddles, mud splashing on his jeans as he runs toward the house. 

Several figures are waiting at the doorway. Gerard’s hand instinctively goes to his gun, his fingers clasping on the cold metal before he recognizes the figures in the doorway. The one on the left is Sarah, several kids peering out into the rain at Frank and Gerard. 

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks, out of breath from his run.  
Sarah waves at the kids behind her. “Back to bed!” she yells. “Go! You too, Julia.”  
“What is it?” Gerard asks again  
“Tommy is gone,” Julia says before Sarah can. “He’s gone.”

Sarah ushers them into the living room where they can talk. She chases off several of the kids who peer around the corner, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. 

“Tell me everything,” Gerard instructs her and Julia. Frank paces across the living room before them, fiddling with the gun in his hand, rechecking the cartridge like its habit. He glances out the window several times as Gerard watches him.

“Julia woke me up,” Sarah says. “She caught Tommy disappearing out the back door and ran after him, but he was gone. She followed him to the edge of the forest but lost his trail.”  
Julia nods, her teeth chattering. She’s wrapped in a thick blanket, her clothing still damp.  
“It was them,” Frank says. “I know it was.”  
“Who?” Sarah asks.  
“The Organization,” Frank fills her in before Gerard can. “It’s like how they took me too. It’s like how they took everyone else. That’s how they recruit, preying on the hatred we—the kids in the Care Homes have against the Principality.”  
“Is there any way to find them?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “We have been trying. Tommy was our best lead, he was the only one who we knew had been contacted, but he wouldn’t tell us anything and now he’s gone. Damn it!”  
“We should get out there,” Frank says. He turns to Sarah. “Do you have any flashlights?”  
She nods. “I’ll take you there.”

Gerard listens to their footsteps retreating as he turns to Julia, who has been staring at the wooden floor, uncharacteristically quiet.  
“You okay?”  
Julia nods. “They contacted me,” the young girl says.  
“Really?” Gerard’s blood runs cold. “What did they say?”  
“They told me my ma would’ve wanted me to join,” she whispers. “But I met you and I decided not to. You seemed nice. Tommy wasn’t so sure about it. And now he’s gone.I should have stopped him! I could have.”  
“Don’t blame yourself for that,” Gerard chides. “You have no control over what your friend does. You did your best, but these people are dangerous. But we know how to handle them.”  
“Can I come with you?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous.”  
“I want to help though,” Julia insists. “Please? He’s my friend.”  
Gerard winces sympathetically. “Actually, you can. Do you have any idea where Tommy might have gone?”  
Julia hands him a piece of paper. “I figured it out from what Tommy left me.”  
“You are a genius,” Gerard mutters. “Thank you.”  
“I just want him back,” Julia whispers. “I can’t lose Tommy too.”  
Gerard’s heart twists. “I know,” he murmurs. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”

*

They should have waited. At least until morning. But it’s too late to turn back now, Gerard thinks to himself as he jumps over a fallen tree, the beam of his flashlight wavering. They drove as far to the location that Julia gave them as Gerard would risk it. Frank told him to stop about a mile away, hoping that they would not alert the Organization to their presence. So they move the last mile by foot, through the pouring rain. 

Frank keeps up with him as Gerard holds a section of the fence open for him to crawl through before squeezing through himself. Cold water runs down the side of his face as he flicks off his flashlight, stuffing it into his coat pocket as the two of them stumble out onto the street. 

Frank grabs his hand, his skin cold as he pulls Gerard with him, ducking to keep out of the sight of cameras. They crouch in the dark alleyway behind the wall. The light from the streetlamps glints off the puddles on the sidewalks. 

“Here?” Gerard breathes in his ear.  
Frank nods. “Across the street.” 

He’s right. After a moment, Gerard sees a dark figure step out from the shadows. A van rolls up, the door sliding open and another figure stepping out. He feels Frank tense against him, seeing Frank’s hand move to his gun. Gerard reaches for his own, but a strange sensation prickles up his spine, almost as if he is being watched.

“Wait,” he hisses in Frank’s ear. Gerard slinks along the side of the building, seeing a shadow move. He sprints forward, knowing how loud his footsteps are, reaching the figure just as it rounds the corner. 

“Tommy?” Gerard peers down at the young boy he has pinned. Tommy throws out a punch, thrashing wildly, his fist hitting Gerard in the face. Gerard staggering back, letting go just enough for Tommy to slip out of his grasp, stumbling away.  
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Gerard says, holding his hands up.  
“Don’t come near me!” Tommy shouts. He holds the gun in front of him, a strange sight to behold. A twelve year old boy holding a gun. Gerard has a strange realization that this is what Frank must have looked like.  
“It’s okay,” Frank takes a step forward, his hands raised. Gerard sees the flash of pain on his face as he takes another step forward. “Tommy, put the gun down.”  
“Don’t tell me what to do!”  
“Trust me, you don’t want to go with them,” Frank says.  
“You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what it’s like!” Tommy’s eyes are glistening with tears. “It’s the only way. It’s the only way I can do this.”  
“I promise, it’s not,” Frank pleads. “There is never only one way. Tommy, I was just like you. I was in your exact position, six years ago. And I’m telling you, it’s not worth it. No matter how much you think they care about you, they don’t. They are no better than the Principality.”  
“You’re Frank, aren’t you?” Tommy asks. “I’ve heard about you.”  
“I am,” Frank responds.  
“Then you know why I’m doing this,” Tommy begs. “I can’t live like this, I can’t do this. They promised me freedom, they promised me revenge. It’s all I need. They said we can be a family.”  
“It’s a lie,” Frank says. “Tommy, I know how good it seems, but it's all a lie. Take it from me. I was just like you. I thought it was the only way. I hated the Principality and all it stood for so I went with the Organization. It’s all a lie. They don’t care about you, all they do is use you. They won’t be your family. Your family is with Sarah, with Julia. They care about you, I promise they do.”  
Tommy hesitates. “I can’t go back,” he says.  
“If you go with them, it’s a one way road,” Frank warns. “You will never be able to get out. They would rather you die than escape.”  
“But you did.”  
Frank doesn’t respond to that, his gaze fixed on Tommy. “You don’t want to do this,” he says again. “Please, just take it from me. I’m trying to save you from my mistakes.”  
“What if I don’t want to be saved?” It’s just a whisper, but audible enough for Gerard to hear. The gun in Tommy’s hand goes off in a flash. Frank doubles over, Gerard moving toward him as Tommy drops the gun, sprinting away. 

“I’m fine, go after him,” Frank gets out through gritted teeth. “Go!” 

Gerard hesitates, but he turns and sprints down the road after the running boy. He sees as Tommy crosses the road, jumping into the van as it takes off, tires skidding on the road. Gerard fires a few shots, but he knows it’s pointless. 

He skids to a stop, an uneasy feeling settling through him. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s turned, sprinting back into the alleyway where Frank is. He just knows that something is wrong, that— 

There’s the sound of a scuffle and a yell. He fires before he even registers what is going on. A shape falls backward with a clunk, blood pooling on the pavement. The other person stands up shakily, moving toward him and collapsing. 

Gerard catches Frank before he hits the ground. “Are you okay?” Gerard gets out. “What happened?”  
Frank coughs. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he struggles up to his feet, leaning heavily on Gerard.  
“Who was that?”  
“Someone to kill me probably,” Frank answers. “Or to kill us, either one.”

Gerard nears the attacker, his gun drawn and aimed at the figure. A woman is sprawled on the road, scarlet blood pooling beneath her. She coughs, blood splattering across her face.  
“Traitor. You know what will happen,” she seethes at Frank.  
Frank’s face is pale.  
“Who are you working for? Who are you?” Gerard asks.  
She ignores him. “They gave you the choice,” she tells Frank. “You coward.”  
“Shut up,” Frank whispers.  
The woman’s gaze turns to Gerard. “Whose life do you value more?” she asks Frank. “His or—”  
“Shut up!” Frank yells.  
“Who are you?” Gerard aims the gun at her. “Who are you working for? Tell me!”  
The woman spits at him. “It’s pointless. The Scarlet Queen will rule,” she says. There’s the sound of glass crunching and the smell of bitter almonds fills the air. 

Gerard pulls Frank back as the woman spasms, her hands coming up to clutch at her throat, cherry red blood dribbling from her lips, the skin beneath her fingernails turning dark. 

“What the hell?” Gerard speaks first, his voice echoing in the now silent air.  
“Potassium cyanide poisoning. From an L-pill,” Frank says matter of factly  
Gerard looks at him strangely. “How do you know that?”  
“All agents have them,” Frank says. “For security in case we get caught. How do you think the Organization has been hidden for this long?”  
“Did you?”  
Frank nods. “You’re not the only one who couldn’t kill me,” he says softly. He reaches into his pocket, handing the small brown pill the size of a pea to Gerard. Gerard turns it over gingerly in his hand, examining it. The glass capsule is coated in brown rubber. It looks so innocuous for what it is. He drops it to the pavement without a second of hesitation, crushing it beneath the sole of his shoe.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“I—” The sound of sirens cuts him off. Both Gerard and Frank freezes as lights flash behind them, red and blue.  
“Shit,” Frank mutters. “Now what?”  
“Can you run?” Gerard asks. “I can try to—”  
“It’s too late,” Frank says softly. “It’s okay.”  
“No—” Gerard mutters. “Frank, they’ll kill you.”  
Frank gazes at him sorrowfully. “I was meant to die in the beginning. I told you that before. I was dead from the moment you set eyes on me.”  
“Frank—”  
Frank kisses him, silencing him, his hands sliding through Gerard’s hair. It’s brief but passionate, over too quickly. “Thank you,” Frank whispers. “Thank you for everything, Gerard.”  
Gerard finally moves to push Frank, urge him to run, but it’s too late. 

“Hands in the air!” Pete’s team is standing there, one of the Quadrants behind him.  
“Way, you need to stop this,” Pete pleads. “Surrender to us.”  
Gerard opens his mouth to reply but Frank cuts him off first.  
“We surrender to you.”  
“Frank, no,” Gerard reaches over but Frank shrugs him off, moving toward Pete with his hands in the air.  
Frank turns back to him for a moment, his gaze meeting Gerard’s. “Trust me. Gerard, I’m sorry,” he whispers before he’s gone.


	6. The Strike Of Midnight

He’s separated from Frank immediately. Gerard strains to catch sight of Frank, but he can’t through the Defenders swarming around him. The last he saw of Frank was Frank being handcuffed and led away to a different van. 

Gerard is lead to a different car by Pete and Patrick, who practically have to drag him.  
“Make sure they don’t kill him,” he blurts out. “Pete, Patrick, please. If I’ve ever helped you, please.”  
“That’s up to the Defenders,” Patrick says loudly. “He is meant to die.” Glancing around quickly, he leans in close to Gerard, whispering in his ear. “Andy and Joe are with him right now. We’re trying.”  
Gerard nods. “I understand,” he says loudly for the benefit of the other Defenders. Then, quieter, “Thank you.”  
“You owe us one, Way,” Pete sighs. “Actually, like five at this point. Now shut up and keep quiet. The faster we get to the base, the faster we can sort out this mess.”

There’s plenty of time then. Plenty of time for Gerard to turn everything over in his mind, of how it went so fucking wrong. Alone, he sits in the back of the car, staring out the window. Gerard has never been one for religion, but now he finds himself praying to anyone out there. _Please, please don’t let Frank die._

It was all a waste in the end. They didn’t find the Organization, they didn’t find anything. He couldn’t keep his promise to Julia or Sarah. Tommy is gone. They only have two things. The body of the attacker. And the Scarlet Queen. But Gerard has no clue what that means. 

Gerard doesn’t get a chance to look around when they arrive at a warehouse. Instead, he’s ushered through, placed in a holding cell of his own. Pete handcuffs him to the table, flashing him a sympathetic glance before closing the door and leaving Gerard in his own world of cement and gray. 

Maybe an hour passes, maybe a day. Gerard can’t stop worrying about Frank. He thanks the fact that he hasn’t heard gunshots, but the silence is almost worse. Anything could have happened, he really doesn’t know.

At last, the door creaks open. Gerard looks up eager as Andy enters the room, moving over the unlock Gerard’s handcuffs.   
“You’re cleared. Frank told us the entire story,” Andy says.   
“Where’s Frank?” Gerard asks. “What happened to him?”  
Andy shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”  
“You have to,” Gerard insists. “Please.”  
“Gerard—”  
“I need to see him.”  
Andy looks over to the doorway, meeting the gaze of someone before he finally nods. “Fine. Come on and be quick.”

Andy and Patrick lead him through the hallways, the three of them moving quickly. They head down one flight of stairs, then up another until they stop in front of a large steel door. Andy digs a card out of his pocket, swiping it on the reader before pushing the heavy door open. It creaks as it moves, the metal groaning as it swings open to reveal another hallway.

This one is brightly lit, glass cells lining the length of it. Gerard breaks into a run until he reaches the one at the end, Andy unlocking it for him.  
“You have five minutes,” Andy says, stopping him before Gerard can move. “Joe is managing the surveillance. After that, we have to go. Understand?”  
Gerard nods. “Thank you.”

Frank looks up when Gerard walks in. He looks exhausted, his face pale under the bright lights. His hands are chained above his head to the pillar in the center of the room, his face bruised. There’s a trail of dried blood running down the side of his face, the color almost black in the lighting. But he’s alive. 

Gerard moves before he even knows it, wrapping his arms around Frank.  
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he pulls back, examining Frank. Frank’s lip is split and a purple bruise is swelling on his cheekbone, but other than that, he looks unscathed.   
“What are you doing here?” Frank asks, his eyes hollow.   
“Who did this?” Gerard asks, touching the cut as Frank pulls his head back with a hiss. “Are you certain you’re okay?” he looks Frank over, seeing dried blood on Frank's shirt.   
“I’m fine.”  
“Were you injured? In the alleyway, when Tommy shot you.”  
“It’s nothing. The bullet just grazed me.”  
“Do you need medical attention?”  
“Gerard, really, I’m fine,” Frank insists, moving away from him.   
Gerard stares at him for a moment before shaking his head.   
“Have you heard anything about Tommy?” Frank asks. “Oh, I just remembered. We have to tell Sarah and Julia that we couldn’t get to Tommy. I should have stopped him. I should have been able to.”  
“It’s not your fault.”  
“Really?” Frank looks at him. “I’m pretty sure it is. I should have been smarter from the beginning.”

That’s when Gerard finally loses it. “Are you stupid?” Gerard shouts. “What were you thinking, giving yourself up like that? You know that they are going to kill you, right? God, I need to get this through your skull. They’re going to kill you. I need to get you out of here. What were you thinking of in the first place? I told you to run.”  
Frank returns his gaze with a level one of his own. “I was thinking that I was trying to save you.”  
Gerard stares at him, then shakes his head. “I’m getting you out of here.”  
“Don’t,” Frank begs. “Gerard, please don’t. I’m asking you to not.”  
“You know what they’re going to do, right?”  
“They’re going to kill me,” Frank responds. There’s no hint of fear or even anger, just resolution and calm.   
“No,” Gerard shakes his head. “That’s not going to happen.”  
“Don’t try to stop it,” Frank sighs. “It’s okay.”  
“What part of it is okay?”  
“All of it. Gerard, I know you don’t believe it, but I’ve been resigned to die since we first met.”  
“I’m not letting you go without a fight,” Gerard vows.  
“You have to,” Frank pleads. “You were supposed to kill me in the beginning. You don’t need to be dragged down with me. Just promise me that you’re going to get to the Care Home and tell Julia and Sarah. Then find Tommy and the Organization and destroy them for me.”  
“Only if we do it together,” Gerard answers. 

“Gerard,” Andy motions to him from the doorway. “Thirty seconds.”

Gerard glances back to Frank, who nods. “Go, Gerard,” he begs. “Save yourself. I love you. Thank you for everything.”  
“This isn’t goodbye,” Gerard says firmly. “This isn’t the last time we see each other.”  
Frank gazes up at him. “I hope not,” he mutters.   
“It’s not,” Gerard reaches over, cupping Frank’s face in his palm. “We’ll get out of this.”  
Frank’s eyes meet his. “Go,” he says. “For me.”

Unwillingly, Gerard turns, sparing one glance back at Frank, who nods again. _I love you,_ he mouths. Andy takes one of his arms, Patrick the other as the two of them steer Gerard out of the hallway, then down the stairs and back into his cell. 

“Let me speak to someone. Please,” Gerard begs. “I can’t just leave him here.”  
Patrick exchanges a glance with Andy before he slides a note across the table to Gerard.  
“What is this?” Gerard asks.   
“Frank asked us to give this to you,” Andy explains. “I have no clue what it says. He just said to read it when you get some time alone.”  
Gerard frowns, but he slides the paper into his pocket. “Can I talk to President Williams or Vice President Hart?”  
“Actually, about that,” Pete appears at the doorway, a look of concern on his face. “Gerard, you have an hour to get ready.”  
“Get ready for what?”  
“Your trial. In front of the Senate. They are going to decide whether you are guilty or not.”

*

“Remember,” Pete says. “The whole thing went down like this: you went to kill Frank and he got the better of you, threatening your team. You didn’t want to put them at risk so you agreed and you ‘helped’ him and went along with it, hoping he would reveal the Organization for you, but you were caught before you could.”

Gerard nods, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit pants. He’s dressed up, for the first time in a long time. For the past forty minutes or so, he had just followed Pete’s instructions, nodding when Pete asked him a question, not fighting back. 

“Gerard?”  
“Yeah, makes sense,” he agrees.   
“That’s not what I asked.”  
“Oh, what?” Gerard looks up to see Pete waving his hand in front of Gerard’s face.   
“Your team is here.”

Gerard glances at the doorway just as Ray and Mikey tackle him, squeezing him so hard he thinks his ribs might crack.  
“Oh my god,” Ray sighs. “What did I tell you?”  
“Sorry,” Gerard mutters, patting Mikey’s head awkwardly. “What are you doing here?”  
“Rhodes is here to attend your hearing, so we had to come too. Also, I think we have to testify or something,” Mikey explains.   
“Have you seen anything about what they’re doing to Frank?”  
“Sorry, no,” Ray flashes him a sympathetic glance. “I’m sure it’s okay. Just do what Pete tells you to.”  
“Way, I am going to murder you.” Another voice sounds at the doorway.   
“Thanks, Brian,” Gerard says, turning to hug him too.  
Brian hugs him back. “You’re an idiot. Gerard, we’re getting you out of this.”  
“Thanks,” Gerard answers. “Really, all of you. I would be so lost without all of you guys.”

“About Frank—”  
“We can break him out,” Gerard says. “I got the plans.”  
“How did you do that?” Ray sighs.   
“After the trial,” Gerard continues. “They’re going to wait a week for his execution. We can break him out before then.”  
“Gerard—”  
“Don’t try to convince me otherwise,” Gerard hisses. “I’m going to save him.”  
Mikey lays a hand on his shoulder. “If you want us to help you, we will.”  
“Thank you,” Gerard says hoarsely. “Thank you so much.”  
“You’re our Leader,” Ray answers. “But more than that, you’re our friend. Friends help each other.”  
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Gerard responds. “Thank you.”  
“Thank us by winning the trial,” Joe says from the door.   
“Ready?” Patrick calls.   
Gerard nods. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Let’s do this.”

He had only been to the courtroom twice before. Once when he got sworn in as a Defender, the other when he had heard his parents’ will read out. Now, Gerard isn’t any less nervous than the previous two times. 

“Relax, you’re going to do great,” Pete mutters. “They’ll call you in a few minutes. I have to go up to the audience wing. But I’ll see you in a few. Good luck, Gerard. We’re cheering you on.”  
“Thanks,” Gerard says. “For everything, Pete.”

Gerard leans against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he listens to the muffled talking. He shifts, trying to get comfortable, hearing a crinkling noise. Frowning, he stuffs his hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing against a piece of paper. 

He pulls the crinkled note from his pocket. Frank’s note. He said to read it when Gerard is alone, and Gerard practically is at this point. With shaking hands, he unfolds it, afraid of what it will say. 

Frank’s familiar messy scrawl stares back at him, the ink splotched in some places, the paper wrinkled as if Frank had been crying when he wrote it. Gerard traces his fingers over the shaky letters. 

_Dear Gerard,_

_I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I want to say. I don’t know what has happened by the time you read this, but I’m sorry. For everything that has happened. I don’t know how to explain it to you, so I won’t. It’s too much, too much for me to say sorry for, so much so that I don’t think I could fit it on this piece of paper._

_Right now I’m writing this locked in a cell while Andy and Patrick try to give me some privacy. You probably have so many questions for me. If you hate me now, I wouldn’t be surprised. I understand whatever you feel for me now. And I’m sorry._

_Thank you for everything. Thank you for my life. You spared me all those weeks ago, gave me a chance to live a little bit longer and for that, I am indebted to you forever. Thank you for the time you gave me, the time that we spent together._

_I love you. No matter what happens, I think I will always love you. I never thought I would, but working with you, I don’t see how I could have possibly resisted. You are brilliant, Gerard. I gave you my heart, forever and ever. I am yours forever, if you want me. I will be yours until the ends of the earth, until the end of time and beyond, if you want me to be. I told you this before and I wish I could say it to you so many more times. I love you._

_Who knows? Maybe this isn’t goodbye. Maybe we will see each other again._

_Love,  
Frank_

He’s crying by the time he finishes, clutching the paper close to his chest as his shoulders shake. Gerard lets out a quiet sob, breathing out slowly as he struggles to gain control over his emotions. It’s not goodbye, he knows it. He’s not going to let Frank die. He will fight every Defender, tooth and nail just to set Frank free again. 

“Agent Gerard Way.”

Gerard steps forward, his hand grasping the handle of the door. The metal is cold against his hand as he pushes it forward, walking into the center of the courtroom. 

He’s standing in a dip in the floor, the senate and Vice President Hart seated above him, looking down through a glass barrier. The rest of his team and Pete’s team are sitting there too. Mikey smiles at him reassuringly from the benches. Gerard scans the seats for Frank, but there’s no sign of him. 

“We’re here to analyze the actions of Agent Gerard Way, Defender, Leader,” Vice President Hart says. “Charged on the possible helping of an enemy part of the Organization, Frank Iero and disobeying direct orders. Found guilty or not guilty?” 

All eyes find Gerard. Gerard takes a deep breath, hating himself for what he is about to say, word for word what Pete told him to. “I went to kill Frank and he got the better of me, threatening my team. I didn’t want to put them at risk so I agreed and I ‘helped’ him and went along with it, hoping he would reveal the Organization for me, but I were caught before I could.”  
“Why didn’t you let the Defenders know?”  
“I told my team,” Gerard says.”But I knew that if too many people knew, he would become suspicious. I hoped that I could gain his trust enough so that he would tell me where the Organization was.”  
“Why didn’t you just kill him?”  
“Because he told me that he had people stationed on Ray and Mikey. I couldn’t endanger my team.”  
Vice President Hart nods, glancing around at the Senate. “I think that this case is obvious. Senators?”  
Gerard watches as they nod.   
“Decided,” Hart says. “Agent Way is not guilty. A few mistakes were made, but overall, he held up the code of the Defenders and did his job as a Leader in protecting his team. For Frank Iero, we will uphold the original punishment.”  
“This is ridiculous!” Gerard shouts, seeing Pete wince from the bleachers above.   
“Excuse me?”  
“Frank is innocent. I lied okay? I directly disobeyed orders. I thought that I could find the Organization through him. I gained his trust and with it, I learned more about the Organization. It’s not Frank’s fault, it’s the Organization as a whole.”  
“But you directly disobeyed orders?”  
“That’s what I said,” Gerard stares at her. “I disobeyed the orders because they were stupid. Killing the members won’t do anything. As you know from the report Frank gave, the Organization is getting their members from the Care Homes. They turn the kids against the Principality and use them. If we kill the members, they will just be replaced with more. What we need to go after is the Organization, not the individuals.”  
“I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders from where you are,” Vice President Hart says. “Do you have any proof that this is how the Organization is getting its members besides your own word and the word of an assassin?”  
“Senator Rhodes agrees with me,” Gerard says boldly. “He, Preston, Vega. They are working on the bill to revamp the Care Home system. Why do you think the Organization is after them? If the Organization loses the Care Homes, they lose their members and with that, their power.”  
“We can discuss this another time,” Hart shoots back. “Right now, you’re on trial.”  
“Maybe I am,” Gerard spits. “I’ll make it easy for you. Yes, I disobeyed orders. But I am loyal to the Principality and I am a good Defender because I upheld everything else. Everything I did was for the good of the Principality.”  
“Oh, really,” Vice President Hart says, staring down at him coldly. “Not killing an assassin?”  
“Because he didn’t deserve to die. He’s innocent,” Gerard shouts. “Don’t you see? He had no choice, none of them do.”

“Gerard, don’t.”

Gerard turns, seeing Frank standing there, behind him.   
“Frank?” How did he get out? What is going on?   
There’s a gun in Frank’s hand, pointed straight at Gerard. Frank’s eyes are filled with tears.  
“It’s all my fault,” he yells up at the people above. “Gerard is doing as I told him to. I am the one who you want, I’m the one who you need to blame. Agent Way is innocent.”  
“What? No, Frank—” Gerard moves toward him.  
“I’m sorry.” Frank’s eyes meet Gerard’s, beautiful hazel shining with tears. “I’m so sorry,” he says and fires.

*

It only takes a second for everything to go wrong. The gunshot echoes through the room. Senator Rhodes slumps to the ground, pink blood misting across the walls, the metallic tang filling the air. Scarlet splatters across the glass barrier, broken glass tinkling as it falls to the marble floor, wet with blood. 

Gerard can only stare as the courtroom erupts into chaos, people scrambling to get away. Scarlet blood drips to the ground, pooling at Gerard’s feet, but all he can do is stand still. Rhodes is dead. Frank killed him. Rhodes, who was so kind and understanding, who Frank thanked back at the apartment for doing what he did. Rhodes, who Frank would never kill. Or at least that’s what Gerard thought. He’s shocked by how wrong he was. 

Someone stands up, pointing with a thin finger at where Frank is standing in the doorway, the gun still pointed up.   
“Get him!” she shrieks. But everyone is still scrambling to get away. 

Gerard is the only one who moves forward. Before he knows it, he has tackled Frank, the two of them falling backward onto the marble tile. Frank doesn’t fight back against him, just lets Gerard pin his wrists down, the gun dropping to the floor out of his slack grip.

“What did you do?” Gerard asks. “Frank, what the fuck did you just do?”  
“I’m sorry,” Frank says. “I’m so sorry for everything, Gerard. I had to.”  
“Why?” Gerard yells. “Why in the world? What possessed you to do this?”  
“It was the only way that they would take me back.”  
“You’ll die if you go back to them, you said that yourself,” Gerard hisses. “What was it all then? You said you wanted to help me, you said that you wanted to escape.”  
“I never said that. I said that I hated them but I never said I wanted to leave,” Frank whispers.   
Gerard stares at him. “So was it all a lie. Was it all a lie?”  
Frank finally meets his gaze, his eyes glistening with tears. “I had to.”  
“Why?”  
“Because they won’t stop until they have me back. I told you before. I can’t hide from them, neither will you be able to. They will always find me and they will always win. I told you that from the beginning. I was dead from the first moment. So either you kill me or I go back to them.”  
“I’m not going to kill you,” Gerard stares down at him. “Frank, what?”  
“Really?” Frank twists underneath him, reaching for the gun. Gerard tenses for a moment as Frank presses the gun against Gerard’s sternum.   
“Frank,” Gerard starts. “Frankie, don’t—”  
“Let me go,” Frank whispers.   
“They still will kill you. Do you think that they would forgive you?”  
“I’m going to die either way.” Frank stares up at him steadily. He pushes Gerard away, standing up slowly.  
“Don’t,” Gerard begs. “Frank, please. Please, we can sort something out. Just don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I won’t let you.”  
Frank lowers the gun and Gerard breathes out a sigh of relief, but instead, Frank presses it against his own temple. Gerard holds up his hands slowly, backing away.  
“Frank,” he says slowly. “Don’t. Put the gun down.”  
Frank drops the gun to the ground with a clatter. “I have to go,” Frank says softly. “I just killed someone. Gerard, I’m so sorry.”  
“Why?” Gerard asks. “Why did you do any of this?”  
“I can’t explain it to you.”  
“You said that. But why?”  
Frank freezes, startled. “You read my letter, didn’t you?” he asks.  
Gerard nods, pulling it from his pocket. “I did. Frank—how could you? You knew you were going to do this? So you say goodbye to me in a fucking letter? You tell me that you love me in a letter that you don’t even give me? ”  
“You were supposed to wait,” Frank breathes out. “You prick. Until later. I meant for you to read it after all this was over.”  
“Is that what you were talking about? Is that why you were sorry? For killing Rhodes? Please, I just need something.”  
“I can’t,” Frank shakes his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Gerard, Gee, I’m so, so sorry.”  
“I just don’t understand.”  
“Don’t try to.”  
“Frank, it makes no sense to me. Was it all you trying to get me to trust you? So you could do this? Why didn’t you just kill him when we went to the apartment? Why did you bother doing this at all? You could have killed me from the beginning. What was the whole point?” Gerard shouts.   
“Because I’m an assassin. It’s what I do. You were right from the beginning. I’m part of the Organization. It doesn’t matter, I will always be part of them. I’ve done terrible things, I’ve killed people. I’m part of them. The Organization, Gerard, the people that you hate. You should hate me. You should have killed me,” Frank spits at him, his eyes wild.  
“Frank, I refuse to believe that. You know it makes no sense. So why are you trying to hide the truth? Why did you really do this?”  
“Really?” Frank shouts. “Well, it was all a lie. All of it. I lied to you the entire time, okay? It was all for this. I never loved you. I just needed you to get close enough to kill Rhodes. All of it was just a game and you stepped straight into my trap.  
Gerard feels his heart breaking inside of his chest, shattering into a million tiny glinting pieces. “We both know that’s not true,” he says softly, as Frank turns to go.  
Frank pauses. “How do you know that?” he whispers, his voice breaking.   
“Because I know you, Frank Iero. I know who you are. I know that this isn’t you.”  
Frank shakes his head. “Then maybe you’ve never known the real me.”  
“I won’t believe that,” Gerard insists.   
Frank turns away from him, his shoulders shaking.   
“Frank, this isn’t who you are. Why did you do this? What—”  
“Please just let me go,” Frank whispers. “Let me go back to them. I have to. It’s the only way.”  
“There’s never only one way,” Gerard counters. “You said that yourself.”  
Frank looks over at him, his eyes glistening with tears. “This time, there is. I’m so sorry, Gerard.”

And then he’s gone, leaving only the shattered glass behind.


	7. The Wonder Of The Lands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 is inspired by Alice In Wonderland

# Part 2: Tales Of An Adventure In Time

**Of magic lands, oh far and wide  
Places which had beheld my eye  
Of lovers new and hearts aflame,  
And lives of agony and pain, **

_Once upon a time, there was a girl who was too curious for her own good. So when life sent a little mysterious white rabbit her way, she followed him. Down the rabbit’s hole she fell, into the dangers lurking below. A scarlet Queen, roses, a tea party, a dangerous trap, true love, secrets that should have stayed hidden, none of the world made any sense. She should have stayed where she belonged._

Gerard gets the note two weeks later. Three simple words, the three words that are enough to bring him to his knees, alone in the darkness of the apartment. Gerard sinks back against the door, his head in his arms as he lets out a soft sob.

_He is dead._

It doesn’t need to specify who, Gerard already knows. He knew from the moment Frank left him on the floor of the courtroom. He knew that he was never going to see Frank again.

That didn’t stop him from hoping, from searching. Gerard must have scoured the entire city, looking and looking. He barely slept, barely ate, spending all his time watching feeds from various security cameras around the city, spending the rest driving around, searching for Frank.

It had been three days since Frank had disappeared for the Defenders to give up searching. One week before the rest of Gerard’s team gave up. Gerard had been cleared from the blame of the death of Senator Rhodes, his status reinstated, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was Frank.

But there was no trace of Frank, not even a single image. It was as if Frank didn’t exist, but Gerard was determined to keep going. He refused to stop even as he knew how worried Ray, Mikey, and Brian were.

The note isn’t signed but it is enough to drain Gerard of all that had kept him going. The hope that had been alive in him for so long vanishes, leaving him empty. Frank is dead.

And it breaks him, because somehow, without meaning to, he had fallen, tragically, deeply in love with Frank.

Then in a fit of rage, Gerard burns everything. He burns it all. The letter that Frank left him, that fucking letter that Gerard didn’t even bother to read again when he got home. That was a lie. He read it so much, read it as he fell asleep. Gerard knows what it said, word for word.

_Dear Gerard,_

_I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I want to say. I don’t know what has happened by the time you read this, but I’m sorry. For everything that has happened. I don’t know how to explain it to you, so I won’t. It’s too much, too much for me to say sorry for, so much so that I don’t think I could fit it on this piece of paper._

_Right now I’m writing this locked in a cell while Andy and Patrick try to give me some privacy. You probably have so many questions for me. If you hate me now, I wouldn’t be surprised. I understand whatever you feel for me now. And I’m sorry._

_Thank you for everything. Thank you for my life. You spared me all those weeks ago, gave me a chance to live a little bit longer and for that, I am indebted to you forever. Thank you for the time you gave me, the time that we spent together._

_I love you. No matter what happens, I think I will always love you. I never thought I would, but working with you, I don’t see how I could have possibly resisted. You are brilliant, Gerard. I gave you my heart, forever and ever. I am yours forever, if you want me. I will be yours until the ends of the earth, until the end of time and beyond, if you want me to be. I told you this before and I wish I could say it to you so many more times. I love you._

_Who knows? Maybe this isn’t goodbye. Maybe we will see each other again._

_Love,  
Frank_

Because they did see each other again. It was all a lie. Frank knew what he was going to do. He knew that he was going to escape, not to save himself, but to kill Rhodes and go back to the Organization, the Organization that Gerard so desperately tried to save him from. And now he was really dead and Gerard didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

The teddy bear he tosses into the flames too, burning everything he could think of, as if destroying the items could rid him of the memories. He burns the files, the papers strewn across his apartment floor, the files that he had read and marked up for hours and hours, searching for any hint of Frank. But it doesn’t matter anymore, because Frank was dead. He throws in the note for good measure, watching the paper crumble and burn. _He is dead._ Gerard can’t bear to see it anymore.

The last things he said to Frank were thrown out in anger and betrayal. They weren’t what he wanted to say, not what he really wanted to say. Frank had told him that Gerard didn’t know who he was and Gerard had begged him to stay. And Frank had ignored him and disappeared, which would have been okay, disappeared didn’t mean dead. Disappeared meant still alive. But now Frank is actually dead.

So Gerard watches it all burn, all the evidence that Frank was ever here, that Frank Iero ever existed. Maybe he can burn his memories of Frank too. He watches the flames crackle, hearing the wail of the smoke detector as the smoke thickens in his apartment, until the orange fire leaves dark scorch marks on the wall and he passes out.

Gerard wakes up in the hospital the next day, surrounded by his team. And for once, he doesn’t care at all.

From that moment on, Gerard drinks himself to sleep, smoking until everything smells of cigarettes. He goes out, finding a new person every night. One night stands after another. It doesn’t matter who exactly, just that there was someone, someone each night, someone that he can be with. A sick part of his mind almost imagines that it’s Frank that he’s with, it’s Frank that is in his bed each night instead of some random stranger that Gerard met at a bar. Gerard sees the concerned glances that his team and Pete’s team flash him. But he ignores their calls, ignores their tries to talk to him. He doesn’t care anymore.

Now, a month later, Gerard is gone too.

*

His footsteps echo across the marble tiles as he walks into the center of the courtroom. The benches above him are empty except for a single figure, clothed in white, seated in the center. But he can’t make out who it is.

There’s the sound of a bullet clicking into place as Gerard turns, knowing what he’s going to see already. A gunshot echoes through the hall, making him flinch. Frank stands before him, clutching his abdomen, his white shirt soaked through with blood. He stumbles forward, Gerard catching him as Frank collapses into Gerard’s arms.

“No, no,” Gerard says. “Frank, stay with me. Don’t do this.” He presses down on the wound, his hands sticky with warm blood.  
Frank coughs, blood splattering across his face. “Gerard,” he says weakly. “I’m sorry.”  
“No,” Gerard mutters. “Frank, no. Don’t. I love you. Please don’t leave me.”  
Frank shakes his head weakly, his hand reaching up clumsily to pat Gerard’s cheek. “I love you,” he whispers.  
“No!” Gerard yells. “Someone, anyone! Help me!” But there’s no one there.  
“It’s too late,” Frank coughs. His eyelids flutter as his hand grips Gerard’s tightly. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”  
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Gerard says softly. “Of course I forgive you.”  
Frank nods, satisfied, his head falling back against Gerard’s chest. He lets out a soft breath before he finally goes still.

Tears roll down Gerard’s cheeks, warm and salty, stinging the little cuts on his lip and cheeks. His vision blurs as he sobs, his shoulders shaking, clutching Frank’s limp body to his chest, blood pooling out on the marble floor below.

Gerard wakes up clutching at his blankets, his face wet with tears. He takes a moment, scanning his messy bedroom. Frank’s not here, of course he’s not. Gerard isn’t in the courtroom anymore, he’s in his home. His dreams are always filled with turbid smoke and screams. Every night, all he can see is the courtroom, but instead of Rhodes being shot, it’s Frank. It’s Frank bleeding out on the courtroom floor in Gerard’s arms, coughing at his last breath. It’s him not being able to save Frank, because he couldn’t, he couldn’t save Frank.

He moves as if in a daze, reaching for the bottle, then lighting a cigarette. It’s a mess, he knows that, stepping over a few discarded cans. But Gerard can’t bring himself to care anymore. Just as long as he doesn’t think anymore.

The figure in his bed sits up and Gerard hands him a cigarette.  
“Morning,” Gerard says. He can’t exactly remember this one’s name, he doesn’t bother to afterwards. He always just finds a new person each night. Just to keep his thoughts away. Gerard can’t stand to be alone anymore.  
“You can find your way out,” he says carelessly, shrugging on a coat.

Gerard heads into the office, taking the long walk like he has every day. It’s warmer out now, the sun high in the sky above his head as he passes the familiar buildings. The jobs become a blur. One person after another. Gerard kills them all. A quick shot to each of them and it’s over. He doesn't care anymore.

Gerard flips through the new case file that Brian hands him today.  
“What’s this?” he asks around his cigarette.  
“New case.”  
“I thought we were still on the Goldberg one,” Ray says.  
Brian shrugs. “It’s basically wrapped up. I think Andy and Joe are taking care of it.”  
“So who are we after this time?”  
“You hear about the explosions out in the Fifth?” Brian asks.  
Gerard nods. The Principality had been rocketed by three different explosions over the course of the last week. Whoever it was had mostly targeted warehouses full of supplies, food, blankets, basic provisions. Why anyone would do that, Gerard has no clue.  
“I thought a gas main was ruptured,” Mikey says, confused.  
Brian shakes his head. “Nope, apparently they found evidence that it’s not.”  
“Is it the—” Mikey trails off. “The, you know.” He hesitates to say the word, the word that Gerard flinches at every time.  
Thankfully, Brian shakes his head. “Freelance work, I think. We’re not sure why exactly, but that’s up to you guys to figure out.”

It’s a familiar rhythm that they fall into, the three of them reading through files and watching security footage. For a moment, Gerard can almost pretend that everything is normal, that it is before he ever met Frank. They work until the sun goes down and the rest of the offices go dark around them. Gerard’s head swims with images and words as he gets another cup of coffee and another can of beer. It’s just the three of them, working side by side like they always do, until the sun rises and sets again but they still haven’t found anything substantial.

“Shall we continue tomorrow?” Mikey yawns.  
“We might as well call it a night,” Ray sighs. “Gerard?” There it is again, the concerned look that Gerard knows too well now.  
“Yeah, let’s do that.”  
“Do you want me to walk you home?” Mikey asks. After Gerard had found out that Frank was dead, Mikey and Ray were both concerned for Gerard. They insist on keeping an eye on Gerard, but all Gerard wants is to be alone.  
Gerard shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.” Before either of them can protest, he grabs his coat, slinging it over his shoulder as he walks out of the dark office.

Gerard leans against the wall of the elevator closing his eyes. He’s exhausted and knows he should go straight how, but he can’t bring himself to go alone to an empty apartment. Emptiness means memories, memories of Frank and everything. So Gerard turns away from his apartment, heading down the side streets until he sees the flashing lights of the club.

Maybe it’s just a stupid thread of hope, but he’s been coming here almost every night since Frank disappeared. It’s the bar that he first met Frank at. Gerard lets his gaze drift over the corner where he first saw Frank, but like every night, it is empty. He shouldn’t expect anything at this point. In the last two weeks, Frank hasn’t shown up. And now, Gerard knows that Frank is dead, but some part of him still urges him to come here.

The bar is brightly lit like it always is, flashing red and blue lights illuminating the smoky room. He slips into his normal stool at the bar.  
“Whiskey,” he says. He takes a sip, wincing at the strong taste. Before this, Gerard has never liked the taste of alcohol, but it keeps the memories and thoughts at bay.

Gerard sets some money down on the table, draining his glass as he slips out into the alleyway into the cold air. His breath comes in cold puffs as he heads down the dimly lit path. There’s a flicker of a shadow behind him, but when Gerard glances over, it’s gone.

“Hey,” a woman calls to him from where she is leaning against the opposite wall. “What are you doing out here?”  
“Oh, you know,” Gerard pulls out his box of cigarettes, lighting one. “Want one?”  
She takes one, lighting it. “Thanks. Another lonely night?”  
“Yep,” Gerard sighs. “One of many.”  
“For me too.” She takes a drag of her cigarette. “Got anyone tonight?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “No one.”  
“Me either.”  
“So, what do you say?” he asks the woman in front of him. “Want to come home with me?”

*

A few weeks later, they still have found nothing. Gerard spends all his time in the office or in his apartment, working or distracting himself in other ways. The days fly by, one after another. Gerard doesn’t bother to count them. He knows the months change as the weather grows warmer, the daylight lasting longer each day. Maybe it has been a month, maybe two, maybe three since Frank disappeared. Gerard has lost count.

He stops sleeping, or at least tries to. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is the courtroom and Frank dying in his arms. So he stays awake instead, working late into the night. Case by case goes by, body after body buried. In his spare time, he works on the case that Brian gave them, the explosions one.

Gerard’s phone rings as he’s reading. He fumbles for it, seeing Brian’s contact flash across the screen.  
“What is it?”  
“Did you see the news?” Gerard’s heart skips a beat.  
“What news?”  
“Another explosion. How has the case been going?”  
Gerard’s heart sinks. “I didn’t see it. Where was it? I’ll check it out tomorrow.”  
“Thanks,” Brian says. “Gerard, how have you been? I know the news was sudden, I know you cared about him. How have you been handling it? Are you—”  
“I’m great,” Gerard cuts him off. “It’s late, I should go.” He hangs up before he can hear Brian’s response.

Gerard visits the site of the explosions with Patrick to accompany him the next day. He crosses the parking lot, his shoes scuffing in the loose pavement as he greets Patrick.  
“How have you been holding up?” Patrick asks.  
“Fine,” Gerard mutters.  
“I’m really sorry, by the way. I wish we could have done more. I know that you loved him—”  
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Gerard interrupts him. He can feel Patrick’s worried gaze boring into his back, but he ignores it, stepping over the caution tape.

Patrick hands him a mask which Gerard straps on as the two of them walk into the demolished building. The warehouse is large, four stories of gray cement. Or at least it used to be four stories. The explosion took off the top twenty feet of the building, leaving a gaping hole.

“Can we go inside?” Gerard asks.  
“I don’t see why not. Just be careful,” Patrick says as Gerard crosses the parking lot.

The floor is covered in a layer of charcoal, glass crunching under his boots as he steps through the broken doorway. Gerard glances up at the gray sky, where the ceiling would have once been.

“When did this happen?”  
“Last night.”  
“I didn’t see the other sites. I think Mikey and Ray did. Is it the same?”  
Patrick nods. “Basically exactly the same. An IED, or several.”  
“What did this warehouse hold?”  
“Canned food, I think,” Patrick says. “Not much, just the stuff going to the Care Homes and the other shelters.”  
Gerard frowns. “Was anyone hurt?”  
“No one was here. Like all the others.”  
“Strange. Split up, okay? Yell if you see anything on the left side. I’ll head right.”

Gerard makes notes as he goes, examining the pattern of the debris, scanning for any footprints or sign of blood. He sees a few scraps of clothing, pulling on a pair of gloves and placing them in a plastic bag. Gerard peers out the door in the back, seeing the forests looming outside. Probably how they got away. He turns to go back inside when something shiny catches his eye.

There’s a broken watch lying on the ground. Gerard picks it up, turning it over in his hands. A long crack is running down the glass of the watch, the minute and hour hands frozen in place, to 9 and the 30. It makes a dull ticking sound, the second hand wavering in place as Gerard runs his fingers over the back, brushing off the soot and debris.

His fingers brush against the old silver, feeling something engraved into the metal. Gerard runs his fingers over it, trying to clear the dirt away.

“Patrick?” he calls. “I found something.”  
There’s the sound of footsteps before Patrick rounds the corner out of breath.  
“What does that say?” Gerard asks, passing it to Patrick.  
“I can’t tell,” Patrick says. “That looks like an E. And an L? Or an I?”  
Gerard shrugs. “I’ll try to clean it later.” Patrick hands it back to him, Gerard putting it in a bag along with the scraps of cloth.  
“Back to the office then?” Patrick asks.  
Gerard shrugs. “Or I’ll go home.”  
“Come on,” Patrick says. “Gerard, please? We miss you. Do it for me.”  
Gerard sighs. “Fine. Just for an hour.”

He lets Patrick drag him back to the Defender’s building, up the elevator and into the office. It’s been a few days since he’s been back here, but ever since meeting Frank, the Defender’s building hasn’t really felt comfortable to Gerard. It’s just a constant reminder about what happened and what Gerard has lost. So he stays in his apartment most of the time, working from there.

“Why did you want me here?” he asks Patrick as the two of them wait in the elevator.  
Patrick shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says cryptically.  
Gerard rolls his eyes as the elevator door opens. “Let’s go.”

The walk down the hall to the office is a short one, one that Gerard has gone down too many times. He hears the sound of voices as pushes the door of his office open.

Mikey tackles him as he walks in, wrapping his arms tightly around Gerard.  
“You got him to come!” Ray cheers. “Hi Gerard.”  
“Hi?” Gerard says, confused as Mikey lets go. “What’s all this about?”  
“Happy birthday, Gerard,” Mikey hands Gerard a small box with a ribbon on it. “It’s from all of us.”  
“Thank you,” Gerard says faintly. “It’s my birthday already? I completely forgot.” He unwraps the present, pulling out a jewelry box. Gerard opens it seeing a gold necklace with a white rose pendant.  
“It’s beautiful,” he says, “Thank you.” Gerard hugs Mikey, then Ray, then Patrick and everyone else in the room, Pete, Andy, Joe.  
“Do you like it?” Ray asks.  
“I love it,” Gerard answers. “Thank you so much.”  
“Happy birthday, Gerard,” Brian says as he shuts the door.  
“I feel so old,” Gerard sighs. “Twenty two? Wow.”  
Ray laughs. “Well, old man. What now?”  
Gerard puts the necklace on, the pendant cold against his skin. “I should probably go home. Lots of work to do. Thanks for the birthday gift, it was a lovely surprise.”  
“Do you want us to come with you?” Ray asks. “You shouldn’t work tonight.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “It’s fine.”  
“It’s your birthday,” Mikey protests. “You shouldn’t spend it alone.”  
Gerard hugs him again “Thanks, but I really should. I love you guys, really.” He heads out before anyone can stop him, jogging toward his home.

He reaches his apartment building a while later, out of breath. Gerard glances around at the empty street, touching the golden pendant gently. It really is beautiful, he meant every word he said. Gerard smiles to himself as he heads toward the door. He thinks he sees a dark shape move across the alleyway and hears the rustling of clothing, but when he glances over, there isn’t anyone there.

Gerard takes the stairs two at a time as he heads to his apartment door, unlocking it and shutting the door behind him.  
“Happy birthday to me,” he says in the silence of his own apartment. Gerard sighs, flicking on his light, then stopping as something catches his eye.

There’s a blank envelope on the floor of his apartment as if it had been slipped under his door. Gerard frowns as he bends over, picking it up and flipping it over. There’s no signature, not even his name on it.

His curiosity gets the better of him and he slices it open, pulling out a card. A little white rabbit stares at him from the cover of the card, a red rose in its hand. It’s blank, completely blank. There’s not even a drop of ink, no signature. Gerard sighs, placing it on the table when a piece of paper flutters out. He frowns, picking it up. It’s from the Crown Motel, a piece of stationary from what seems like one of the bedside notepads. The one where he first met Frank, almost six months ago. Gerard flips it over, scanning both sides. Just the sight of it is enough to get his heart racing. Two words are scrawled onto the back.

_Happy Birthday._

The note isn’t signed, but Gerard knows who it is from. He knows the handwriting like he knows his own, he stared at it every night for a week. Though he doesn’t have the letter to compare it to now, he knows who it is from.

With shaking hands, he pulls the watch from his pocket, turning it over so he can see the engraved letters, brushing the remaining dirt out of the way. Now he knows why it seemed so familiar. He’s seen it before, in his apartment nonetheless. His fingers trace over the letters. It’s not an E and an L. It’s an F and an I. For Frank Iero.

Gerard stumbles back, leaning against the door as his heart races. Frank was there. He was there at the site of the explosion, the one that happened yesterday. It makes no sense, now that he thinks about it. Frank supposedly died over four months ago, according to the note that he got, that the rest of his team got. But he was there at the explosion yesterday and he must have been here at Gerard’s apartment to deliver the letter. Something is off here, someone must be lying. But Gerard can’t think about that now. The only thought going through his mind is the giddy realization as he smiles, three words warming his heart.

Frank is alive.

*

Ray and Mikey both seem startled when they walk into the office, seeing Gerard already there. Gerard jumps up from where he is sitting at the desk.  
“Oh, you’re finally here,” he says.  
“What’s going on?” Mikey yawns. “Gee? You’re here?”  
“How are you earlier than us?” Ray asks, rubbing his eyes. “Am I dreaming?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard says. “Okay, so I narrowed down the next possible locations of our bomber. It’s either going to be here or here.” He points to the map. “I know who it is too. Brian was wrong. It’s not freelance. It’s the Organization.”  
“How did you come to that conclusion,” Ray asks. “And can we have this conversation after I’ve been caffeinated?”  
Gerard nods, practically unable to sit still from anticipation. He waits as Ray and Mikey get their coffee and flies, sitting down in front of him.

“So, spill,” Mikey says. “You seem like a different Gerard than the one I saw here last night. What happened?”  
Gerard reaches into his pocket, pulling out the card and the watch. “This.”  
Ray picks them up. “So?”  
“He’s alive,” Gerard says. “Frank’s alive.”

Mikey and Ray exchange a worried glance before looking back at Gerard. Gerard sighs. He expected this; it shouldn’t surprise him.  
“Gee,” Ray begins. “Frank is dead. You have to come to terms with that now.”  
“Then explain this,” Gerard says. “Why I got a card last night.”  
“It could be from anyone.”  
“The stationary. From the Crown Motel. It’s where I first met him. Not to mention the note is in his handwriting. I know it’s from him.”  
“But the watch?”  
“He had it with him in my apartment,” Gerard explains. “I asked him about it. The initials are his.”  
“You might be jumping to conclusions,” Ray says cautiously.  
“I’m not,” Gerard insists. “It has to be him.”  
“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up,” Mikey warns. “Even if he isn’t dead, he still is missing.”  
“I know,” Gerard says. “I won’t.” Because he can deal with Frank missing. He can deal with the fact that Frank knows where he is and is watching him, yet won’t show himself. He can deal with all of that. The one thing he can’t deal with is Frank dead. Frank missing doesn’t mean that he is dead, it means that there is a chance for Gerard to see him again. And that’s all that matters.

“We are close to finding them,” Gerard says. “I know it. We can do it this time. We can actually finish it off, once and for all.”  
“It didn’t end too well last time,” Ray reminds him.  
“Are you looking for the Organization or for Frank?” Mikey asks.  
Gerard opens his mouth to retort, then shuts it. “I don’t know,” he replies. “Both?”  
“You have to remember that if Frank is alive, then he still is with them. He threw his lot in with them, not with us. Remember? He killed Rhodes and ran away.”  
“You don’t have to remind me,” Gerard snaps. “I know, I’ve relived that moment every night since then.”  
Mikey winces sympathetically. “Gee, I know you miss him. We didn’t know him well, not nearly as well as you, so you have to be the judge of him. Do you really think that if you find him, that he will come with us? He’s still wanted by the Principality and if they discover that he’s still alive, then they will come for him. Maybe it’s best if you leave him be. He’s gone, but that means that he’s safe.”  
“I don’t think he’ll be safe if he’s with the Organization,” Ray points out. “This whole thing is bothering me. Who told us that Frank was dead?”  
“Brian,” Mikey answers. “But he was just passing the news on.”  
Gerard shivers. “It’s the same question that Frank asked me. Who are we working for? Who is in charge of everything here?”  
Sadly, none of them know the answer to that.

Revitalized, Gerard works all day and all night. It’s just like old days, just like how it was before. The three of them work side by side, scanning, searching. Gerard can almost imagine that it’s right before he ever met Frank. But it’s not. He still can’t shake the giddy feeling, the knowledge that Frank isn’t dead.  
“Mikey?” Pete knocks on the door, startling them.  
“Hey, Pete,” Mikey’s face lights up.  
“You guys done for the day?”  
“Practically.” Mikey shoots Gerard a glance. “Are we?”  
“Basically,” Gerard sighs. “Go ahead.”  
Mikey grins. “Thanks.” He reaches over, taking his coat that Pete hands him. Pete wraps his arm around Mikey’s shoulder as the two of them turn, leaving the office.

Gerard watches as the two of them disappear.  
“When did that happen?” he asks.  
Ray shrugs. “A while ago. They’ve kept it kinda quiet.”  
Gerard smiles at that. “Well, Pete’s a good guy.”  
“How are you?” Ray asks. “Are you okay?”  
Gerard sighs. “I think so. I will be once I find Frank.”  
“Just make sure—”  
“I know,” Gerard groans. “But I found him once, right? I can do it again.”  
Ray casts him a sympathetic glance. “We will, okay, Gerard? You’ll see him again.”  
“You’re the best,” Gerard says. “Really, Ray. You keep us together.”  
Ray laughs. “I think that’s Mikey’s job.”  
“Well you keep me from falling apart,” Gerard says. “I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.”

Feeling light and airy for once, Gerard goes home and cleans out his apartment. He tosses the empty cans and cigarette butts into the trash, tidying up the place for the first time in months until he can actually see the floor. The unused alcohol and packs of cigarettes he leaves outside his neighbor’s door, hoping that it won’t go to waste. He’s lived in a haze for months and now it’s time for him to break through it.

Exhausted but happy, he sinks down into his empty bed, alone, truly alone for the first time in months. There’s no one to occupy the empty space in his bed, no one to fill the gaping hole because it has already been filled. But for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel lonely. No, he feels far from that. Gerard has his friends, his team. Now he has Frank too. He feels something that he lost for so long. Hope.


	8. A Hall of Doorways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to do this yesterday, whoops

There is a postcard waiting for him the next day when he wakes up. Gerard picks it up off of the floor, turning it over. Red roses adorn the back of it. Gerard unconsciously touches the pendant around his neck, the white rose. He flips the postcard over, hoping for a note, but there isn’t one. Instead, there is a picture of an office building stapled to the back, the number 20 scrawled with a red marker onto the side. Gerard analyzes it just like the other one, searching for fingerprints, running every test he could think of on it. But there is nothing. 

Still, he knows that it must be Frank. 

With a second of hesitation, Gerard rummages around his apartment for a notepad and a pen. Uncapping the pen, he scribbles a note down, cryptic enough so that no one will know that it is to Frank. Gerard hesitates, his pen hovering over the paper. He wants to say so much, pour his feelings out onto the paper. But if the Principality or anyone outside of his team catches wind that Gerard knows where Frank is, it will be a shitshow. Frank will be killed, for real this time. 

_Thank you for the birthday card. The Crown Motel is nice this time of year. Give me a sign if it is you. Love, Gee._

He stuffs it under his door as he leaves for the office. Hopefully, it will be gone by the time he comes back. As much as he wants to stay and see if he can catch Frank, he has to know if it’s really Frank that is here. Gerard smiles as he locks his door. If it was, that means that Frank has been here, that means that he has been so close to Frank, yet so far away. But at least Frank was here.

Brian greets him as he walks into the office. “There was another kill, First Sector. Secretary Johnson was shot in his office building, twenty stories up in the air.”  
“Morning to you too,” Gerard says.  
Ray whistles. “Damn. Another?”  
“It was Frank,” Gerard says nonchalantly while getting a cup of coffee.   
“You don’t know that,” Brian sighs. “A watch and a birthday card?”  
“We filled him in,” Mikey explains.   
“I know,” Gerard insists. “I know it was him.”  
“Maybe those were,” Brian says. “But how do you know this kill was him?”  
“I just do.”  
“How?”  
Gerard shrugs. He pulls the postcard out of his pocket, sliding it across the table to Brian. There’s a moment of silence as Gerard watches the three of them scanning the postcard.   
“Shit,” Ray says. “I guess it really is.”  
“It could be a coincidence,” Brian says doubtfully. “But I guess it’s the only thing that really makes sense.”  
“But why would Frank be sending them to you?”  
“He wants us to find him,” Gerard says. “He’s giving us clues, leading us to the Organization.”  
“I don’t think so. He did run away.”  
“The whole thing didn’t make any sense,” Gerard sighs. “Why? Why would he run? There’s no reason for him to have.”  
“We were going to kill him,” Mikey reminds him. “If he didn’t, he would have been killed.”  
“Then why didn’t he just run? Why kill Rhodes? Why put himself in the public eye? He could have gotten out of there. He could have killed Rhodes much earlier, when we met with Rhodes in the apartment. Why did he wait? He didn’t want to kill Rhodes, remember? So why did he do it?”  
“Didn’t he say that the Organization wanted him back and that was the only way he could make that happen?”  
“But why would the Organization want him to do that? They don’t want any attention drawn to themselves,” Gerard points out. “That’s why the agents have the L-pills. That’s why it’s so hard to find them. Their secretiveness is their strength. Why throw that all out just for the death of a senator and for Frank to be shown in the public eye?”  
“None of it makes sense,” Brian says. “But the sooner we find them, the sooner we will get the answers.”  
“Let me go,” Gerard says.   
“Ray and Mikey can handle this building,” Brian says. “I need you focused on the explosion case. Which is, according to you, from Frank as well.”  
Gerard nods. “I need to make a quick stop before.”  
“To what?” Brian asks.   
“I need to tell someone something,” Gerard says. “And hopefully find another clue about where Frank is.”  
Brian sighs. “If I don’t, you’ll go anyway.”  
Gerard grins at him. “You got that right.”

But first, he goes back to his apartment, his heart pounding as he climbs the stairs two at a time, practically sprinting down the hallway to his apartment. Gerard doesn’t waste any time, kneeling down and scanning the floor. 

The note is gone.

With shaking hands, he unlocks his apartment door, scanning for a response, but there isn’t one. There’s nothing here. Gerard leans back against his door, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Someone was here, someone took the note away. But there is no response. Maybe he is wrong. Maybe Frank doesn’t want to be found. 

*

The drive is familiar, too familiar at this point. Gerard takes the long winding roads, a pang pricking his heart as he glances at the empty passenger’s seat. The last few times he took this drive here, he wasn’t alone like this. But there’s nothing to dwell on now. A trip has been long overdue. 

Gerard throws the car into park, breathing in the warm air as he jogs through the gate, up the pathway and to the front door. He glances up at the roof, seeing a shape duck out of sight briefly. Gerard smiles in memory of the night he and Frank spent up on the rooftop, watching the stars until they fell asleep. What he would give to be back there. 

He knocks on the door three times, stepping back as he hears someone yell from inside. The green door creaks open and a small figure tackles him.   
“Hi Julia,” Gerard says, hugging her back.   
“I thought you died,” she said. “After the news about Frank and you two never came back, I thought you died. Then I saw the trial and you never came back. Where were you?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips and staring at him accusingly.  
“Julia! Invite him inside first!” Sarah yells. She comes outside, casting Gerard a tired look.  
“Hello Agent Way,” she says. “I’m sorry.”   
“Hi Sarah,” Gerard answers. “Me too. I should have been here earlier. I just—I’ve had a lot going on.” 

Sarah leads them into the living room, seating him and Julia down on the old armchairs.   
“Tommy’s gone, isn’t he?” Julia asks.   
Gerard nods. “I’m so sorry. I promised to bring him back and I couldn’t keep that promise.”  
“It’s okay,” she says. “I expected it anyway. I knew from the moment he was gone that he wasn’t coming back. I was mad at you at first, but I can’t blame you.”  
“We’ll find him,” Gerard vows. “We will bring him back.”  
“Another one,” Sarah sighs. “It’s always like this. You can’t blame yourself, Agent Way.”  
“We should have stopped him,” Gerard says. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t.”  
“He’s a resolute kid. They’ve all gone through hell. I wish I could be better for them.”  
“It’s not your fault,” Gerard answers. “I think it’s everyone’s actually. I just wish I could do something more for them.”  
“The Organization takes a lot of kids. They train them like they did with Frank. Tommy isn’t the only one who has gone missing this year.”  
“I wish we could find them. I miss them all,” Julia sighs.   
“Did you know them?”  
“Not really,” Julia says. “Except for Tommy and my brother.”  
“Your brother?”  
“He left me here,” Julia says. “I don’t remember him very much.”  
“My best guess was that he went to the Organization,” Sarah explains. “We don’t know what happened to him. He just appeared with Julia, left her at a Care Home eight years ago, then disappeared the next day. She’s bounced around a lot, but she ended up here a while ago.”  
Gerard winces. What kind of a brother would abandon his sibling? He sure as hell wouldn’t do that to Mikey. He would rather fight tooth and nail than leave his brother behind.   
“What’s going on with the explosions?” Julia asks, seemingly eager to change the topic.  
“How has the Care Home been with them?” Gerard asks. “I heard about the supply shortage.”  
“We’re managing,”   
“People are upset,” Julia says. “They were talking at school. They think that President Williams and the Principality isn’t doing anything to stop the explosions or the kills. They think that Williams should listen to Hart more. I think the other kids are scared. Maybe angry too.”  
“I’m afraid others will leave,” Sarah says.   
“We’re trying to put a stop to the explosions,” Gerard reassures. “We’re almost there.”  
“They keep siding with Hart. She says that she will stop them. It’s the Organization again, isn’t it?”  
Gerard nods. “I think so. I don’t know. I’m looking for whoever is doing it.”  
Julia gives him a look. “It’s Frank isn’t it?” Sarah casts her a sharp glance.   
“He’s—” Gerard’s voice dies in his throat. “How—”  
“I saw the news,” Julia says. “But it’s a lie. He’s missing, isn’t he?”  
“How did you know?” Gerard asks.   
“He left you a message last night,” Julia says softly. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “That’s how I knew that he wasn’t dead.”  
“Did you see him?”  
Julia shakes her head. “No. I know it was him though. He put it in the gardens. I found it this morning.” She passes the note to him, Gerard’s heart skipping a beat as he unfolds it. 

_Gerard, stop looking for me._

“You’re not going to, are you?” Julia asks.   
Gerard shakes his head, putting the note back into his pocket. “Never. I’ll search to the ends of the world if I have to. I just want him back.”  
“I want Tommy back,” Julia says. “I miss him. You will find him, won’t you?”  
Gerard nods. “I will. I—” his phone rings, startling him.  
“Give me a moment,” Gerard excuses himself, stepping out of the room. “Hello?”  
“Gerard?” Brian’s voice comes through the call.   
“What is it now?” Gerard sighs.   
“Where are you right now?”  
“I’m at the Care Home, heading back to the office soon,” Gerard frowns. “Why? What’s wrong?”  
“Get back here as fast as you can,” Brian says. “And hurry. You’re in danger.”

*

That isn’t cryptic at all, Gerard wants to say. But he holds his tongue as he drives back toward the Defender’s building. In danger from who? The Organization, probably, but Gerard has been in danger from them since day one. What has changed? Something must have. He wonders if the note that Frank left him has anything to do with this. Gerard, stop looking for me. Is it possible that Frank knows that someone is after him? Is he trying to warn Gerard? 

“Thank god,” Ray hugs him as he walks in.   
“What happened?” Gerard asks. “What’s going on?”  
Brian hands him a photograph. “They left you a message.”  
Gerard takes it from him. It’s an image of a gray wall, white spray paint covering the layers of graffiti and grime. 

_You can’t stop us. We’re coming for you, Way. XOXO- the Duke_

“The Duke? Who is that?”  
“We have no clue,” Mikey says. “We’ve been trying to trace it.”  
“Andy and Joe are on it,” Pete elaborates. “They found it in an alleyway two blocks from the office building where Johnson was killed.”  
“Could the Duke be Frank?” Brian asks.   
“That’s not Frank,” Ray says. “He would never put Gerard in danger.”  
“We don’t know what he would do,” Brian counters. “Gerard, this means that they are after you.”  
“The Duke isn’t Frank. I got a note from Frank,” Gerard says. He digs around in his pocket, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper. “I think he is trying to warn me about this.”  
Ray reads it, shaking his head. “You sure it’s from Frank?”  
“Positive. He left it at Care Home 6. He knew that I would be by there.”  
“So this Duke character is someone new?” Patrick asks.   
“Seems like it,” Mikey answers. “Part of the Organization probably.”  
“Everything is part of the Organization nowadays,” Brian sighs. “But yes.”  
“How are the Care Homes, Gerard?” Ray asks. “How are they doing with all the explosions?”  
“They’re managing but barely,” Gerard sighs. “We need to find whoever it is, and fast.”  
“You mean, we need to find Frank,” Mikey says. “He’s behind the explosions. Maybe not the kill?”  
“It doesn’t line up,” Pete points out. “Why would he send you the note, but also send you the postcard? If he wants you to stop looking for him, then why is he sending you the clues?”  
“This whole thing is unsettling,” Ray sighs. “Can we trust anyone anymore?”  
“No,” Brian cuts in. “We can’t trust anyone outside of this room. Gerard, our first order of business is keeping you safe. Patrick? Can you bring him in?”

Patrick nods and moves toward the door, motioning a tall man with short blond hair in.   
“This is Agent Bryar,” Brian introduces. “He’s worked with the Defenders for two years now. He will help with security, for you Gerard and for the rest of your team.”  
“I don’t need a fucking guard, Schechter. We’re fine, my team and Pete’s. We don’t need another addition,” Gerard sighs.  
“Gerard,” Brian crosses his arms. “Do I have to remind you? You just got a death threat. Maybe you don’t care about keeping yourself safe, but what about your team? If the Organization comes after you, chances are they will be after your team too.”  
Gerard scowls at him. “Fine. But there’s no way I’m staying under constant supervision.”  
Brian glares at him. “Orders are orders, Gerard. He will accompany you everywhere and protect the office when needed.”  
“Can’t he just keep my team safe? Just at the office?”  
“It’s not negotiable,” Brian sighs. “There were a very specific set of orders from Head Office and strongly worded note of what will happen if either of us fails to obey.”  
Gerard sighs. “I don’t have a choice in anything anymore.” 

Agent Bryar, it appears, is a stony man who doesn’t talk at all. Gerard sighs, leaning back in his seat as he drives the two of them back. How he wishes that it is Frank with him instead. 

“So, how long have you been with the Defenders?” Gerard asks.   
“Two years.”  
“Are you part of a team?”  
“No.”

Gerard gives up after that, driving in silence back to his apartment. As he steps out of the car, he sees the flickering of a shadow behind him, but the sound of the car door slamming makes him turn back toward Agent Bryar. 

It’s quiet other than their footsteps as Gerard heads toward his apartment, Agent Bryar following him. 

There’s another note waiting for him. Gerard picks it up, slipping it into his pocket before Agent Bryar can spot it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust him, it’s just that Gerard really doesn’t know who he is. 

“Take the couch, get set up or whatever you have to do,” Gerard says. “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
“I can’t let you go anywhere,” Agent Bryar answers.  
“I’m literally going to step outside,” Gerard sighs.   
“Still can’t do that.”

God, it’s like he’s a prisoner in his own home. Gerard almost laughs at his luck. This is probably what Frank felt when Gerard had brought him back here. He rolls his eyes in response, moving toward his bedroom. 

“Don’t disturb me,” he calls as he locks the door behind him. Gerard wedges a chair beneath the door handle for good measure. 

In the light of the moon, he unfolds the note, his hands shaking as he does so.

 _Midnight. Fifth Sector. Warehouse 8. Be there._

“Oh, Frankie, what are you doing? Do you want me to find you or not?” Gerard whispers to himself in the darkness. 

*

Waiting is agony. Gerard checks the cartridge of his gun, making sure he has any weapons necessary as he waits for Agent Bryar to fall asleep. He glances at the clock. Eleven on the dot. He has an hour to get to the Fifth Sector without being caught. Luckily, being with Frank taught him a few tricks. 

When Gerard hears soft snores and is certain Agent Bryar is asleep, he tiptoes to his window, pulling open the curtains as softly as he can. He pushes open the window, wincing as it creaks. The warm night air rushes in as Gerard swings himself out of the side, gripping the narrow ledge as he lets himself fall with thud onto the lights running along the side of his building. He thinks briefly back to the last time he did this, so he could get Frank away from the Defenders. 

Gerard climbs down the rest of the side quickly, slinking along the side of the building to his car. He starts the engine as quietly as he can, wincing at every noise that it makes, certain that it will wake Agent Bryar. But somehow, Gerard is on the road, driving away without any trace of movement from his apartment’s windows. He can’t help but let a victorious grin slide over his face as he leaves the Third Sector behind. 

When he nears the signs for the Fifth Sector, he slows down. Warehouse 8, according to the map that he looked up before he left, is near the border. Gerard sees the dark shape looming in the darkness and hits the brakes. He pulls off the side of the road, pulling the keys out of the ignition. 

It’s a dark night, clouds obscuring the stars and moon from view. Gerard moves as quietly as he can through the woods, ducking around bushes and trees. He can see Warehouse 8 looming before him as he glances into the parking lot. It’s empty, but that doesn’t mean anything. Frank could have as easily walked here. 

Gerard creeps out of the woods, running across the parking lot. He presses himself to the side of the building, keeping to the shadows as he slinks around the side toward the back door. A clatter makes him freeze, peering in through the dark window. He sees a dark shape move, but he can’t quite tell what is going on. 

The handle is cold against his hand as he tries the door, surprised to find it unlocked. Gerard slips in, wedging a piece of wood in the doorway to keep it from slamming shut. It’s dark inside the warehouse, even darker than outside. Gerard lets out a muffled curse as his elbow slams into something hard to his left. 

He hears the sound of footsteps above him and the sound of a muffled grunt. Someone curses and he sees a light flicker above him. Gerard crouches down between the rows of cans, peering through the shelves. A small figure is kneeling toward the back, something glowing green in his hands. He’s hard at work, not noticing when Gerard creeps closer to him, trying to get a look at his face. 

The figure pauses for a moment, putting something down on the ground. Gerard tenses at the sight of a gun lying a few inches from him, but he doesn’t reach for that. All Gerard knows is to not reveal himself. Pete was right. It’s not Frank who sent him the postcard or the note. Whoever the bomber is, if it is Frank, he’s not expecting Gerard. Then who the hell sent it and why is did they want Gerard here?

Gerard hears a clatter and ducks, seeing the figure pull something out of his pocket, then disappear. Gerard jumps to his feet to follow, freezing when the warehouse suddenly lights up around him. Glowing green lights surround him on all sides, illuminating the room as they tick, turning yellow, then orange. 

A shadow catches his attention. Gerard sees a movement as whoever the bomber is sprints towards the door. Gerard follows him, jumping over a stack of cans as he moves. The bomber is fast, but Gerard slowly gains on him.

“Hey!” Gerard yells.   
The bomber freezes, turning to stare at him in surprise. Gerard moves forward, seeing a glint of hazel. Whoever it is has gone completely still, bathed in red light as he suddenly moves toward Gerard. Gerard tenses, stepping backward, his hand moving to his gun. He hears a faint beeping noise and glances behind him just as the world around him explodes. 

Gerard is thrown back by the force of the explosion. Darkness creeps in on the sides of vision as he lies, gasping for breath. Pain prickles through his skull as yellow spots dance before his eyes. He reaches up, touching the back of his head, feeling sticky wet blood against his fingers. Gerard coughs, the smoke hanging thickly overhead making it hard for him to breathe. He smells the harsh scent of something burning as he pushes himself slowly up, his head swimming with burning pain. He crawls forward, glass cutting through his palms as he collapses again. This would be a terrible way to die, Gerard thinks to himself as the warehouse fades in and out of his vision. It was a trick after all. Brian was right, he should have stayed home. But it’s too late now. 

Gerard sees a flicker of movement before him. For a moment, he thinks he sees Frank is standing right in front of him, his eyes wide, but before he can tell, Gerard passes out. 

*

“Come on, you prick. You’re not allowed to die. Not on my watch.” The voice is so familiar, so soft and melodic that Gerard doesn’t want to open your eyes. He just wants to bask in the warmth of it, the familiarity of it. 

“What have you become, Gerard?” The voice continues. “I leave for a bit and you go to pieces.” Fingers brush against his cheek, trailing down his nose and lips. “I’m sorry,” he continues. “I’m so sorry, Gerard. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you would be there. I should have expected it though. I tried to warn you, didn’t I? Of course you came anyway.”

He pauses, laughing. “I miss you, Gerard. I miss you so much. I wish I could be here when you wake up, but I’m afraid that I can’t let that happen.” 

Gerard feels the gentle brush of lips against his forehead. He wants to reach out to Frank, tell him to stay, but when he does, his fingers brush against the cold, empty air. 

He wakes up in the hospital, blinking up at the white ceiling and white walls, disoriented for a moment. Gerard hears the soft sound of voices talking as he tries to sit up and fails miserably. 

“Where is he?” Gerard croaks. “Where’s Frank?”  
“Nice to see you too,” Ray answers.   
“Gerard, please don’t scare the shit out of us next time,” Mikey sighs.  
“Sorry,” Gerard mutters. “What happened?” He succeeds in sitting up this time, glancing around the room. His whole team is here, and Brian too.  
“You tell us,” Brian says, glaring at him. “I gave you one job. Stay home and stay with Agent Bryar. What did you do? Disobeyed both.”  
“I got a lead,” Gerard protests. “I had to follow up on it!”  
“And nearly get yourself killed?”  
“I’m fine,” Gerard insists. “Really.”  
“Kind of.” Brain softens his tone. “What happened? You were in an explosion. How are you not hurt more?”  
“I have no clue,” Gerard says. “You tell me. How did I get here?”  
“The hospital called us,” Ray answers. “They told us you had been injured.”  
“Who brought me here?”  
“Beats me,” Mikey says. 

Gerard frowns, thinking back to the night. There was a figure there, the bombs. And—   
“Was anyone here earlier?” Gerard asks.   
“We’ve been here since we were called,” Ray says.  
“Did you see anyone else here?”  
“No,” Mikey says slowly. “Gerard, who could have been here?” His face goes slack. “You’re not thinking it’s—”  
“I heard him,” Gerard insists. “Right before I woke up. He was talking to me. I saw him there too. I think he is the bomber. I saw him right before I passed out. I think he brought me here.”  
Ray shrugs. “Possibly. The nurses don’t remember anything. Nothing on security either. We checked.”

“What kind of lead did you get anyway?” Brian asks.   
“A note. It said to go to Warehouse 8 at Midnight. So I went.”  
“Why would Frank try to bring you there if he was going to blow the place up?”  
“I don’t think Frank sent them,” Gerard says. “He seemed surprised to see me. He said he tried to warn me and that he should have expected that I would show up.”  
“Then who is it?”   
Mikey slaps his forehead. “The Duke.”  
“What?”  
“The Duke. Didn’t the message say that they were coming for Gerard? How better to do it than pretend to be Frank? If they are part of the Organization and they know about Frank and Gerard, what better way to draw Gerard out than pretending to be Frank? That’s why they let us find the message, that’s why they left it for us in the first place. They knew that it wouldn’t matter. Because no matter what, if Gerard thought it was Frank, he would go and walk straight into their trap.”  
Brian frowns. “I don’t like this,” he says. “There’s another player in the game and they know way more than they should. About everything, about us and about Gerard and Frank. How would they? We tried to keep it secret. How would the Organization know?”  
“I don’t know,” Gerard replies, unsettled. “Who knows? Us, Pete’s team.”  
“Anyone at the courtroom who paid attention,” Ray cuts in.   
Brian shakes his head. “That just means we’re in more trouble than we thought,” he says. 

*

Gerard is released from the hospital a few days later, against Brian and Mikey’s wishes. He sneaks out through the back door, wanting to avoid his team and Agent Bryar. Gerard has had enough of people trying to keep tabs on him for the rest of a lifetime. 

His phone rings from where Gerard tossed it into the passenger’s seat. He glances over, seeing Brian’s name flash on the screen. Gerard rolls his eyes, ignoring the call. Just one day. One freaking day without someone tailing him is all that he wants. 

There’s a note waiting for him when he gets home, lying on the floor as if it had been slid under the door. Gerard wastes no time, tearing open the envelope. It’s unmistakably Frank’s messy handwriting, written out in a hurry. Gerard touches the words, the blue ink coming off on his fingers. It’s recent. 

_I warned you, Gerard. Please stop searching for me. You will only get hurt._

Gerard sighs, stuffing the note into his pocket. “Yeah right,” he mutters. Gerard leans back against the door, closing his eyes. Frank was here. In his apartment again. He was there, at the explosion. He was the one who brought Gerard to the hospital. Frank knows that he’s here, knows everything that has been going on. He took the time to leave the note, to show that he cares. But he left again. 

Gerard throws his bag onto the couch, moving toward his bedroom when he stops suddenly, staring at the dining room table. There’s an envelope gleaming on the table, one that he’s certain wasn’t there when he was last here. 

His hand instinctively travels to his gun as he approaches the table, reaching for the envelope. It’s blank on both sides but he knows that it’s addressed to him. He already knows that it’s not from Frank even before he looks at the handwriting.

 _No hard feelings? XOXO- the Duke_

The Duke. The mysterious person who left him the note, spray painted onto a wall. _We’re coming for you Way._ It really can’t be good that the person who sent him the threat left him a note, in Gerard’s own apartment. It must have been him that sent the other note, pretending to be Frank, knowing that Gerard would fall for his trick. That explained Frank’s note and his other warning, why he rushed Gerard to the hospital and seemed so worried and agonized. 

Gerard’s hands shake as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He frantically dials Brian’s number, listening to the phone ring out.   
“C’mon,” he mutters. “Schechter, pick up, goddammit.” For once, Brian isn’t responding? Unusual. Gerard hears a strange thump behind him and turns around, peering into the darkness of his apartment.

He hears the unmistakable click of a bullet falling into the chamber of a gun. The cold barrel of a gun presses against the side of his head.  
“Hands up,” a voice growls in his ear. “Slowly. Put the phone down.”  
Gerard complies. “What do you want?” he asks.   
“You’ll see,” the person laughs. “Oh and Frankie sends his regards.”  
Gerard grits his teeth. “Don’t—”  
“Don’t what? I don’t think you’re in any position to threaten me.”  
“If you’ve hurt him,” Gerard hisses. “I swear—”  
“Oh, I haven’t hurt him, not in the slightest. You know, we are quite friendly. You could even say that we are a bit past that. He’s quite good in bed. Not that you would know.”  
Gerard’s elbow flies up, nailing his captor in the face. He hears a muffled grunt and a curse behind him as he ducks, a bullet whizzing by his ear, stinging as it nicks the side. Gerard reaches for his own gun, aiming it at the person.   
“Who the hell are you?” Gerard yells. The two of them are caught in a standstill, guns aimed at each other. Gerard can’t tell who the other person is, from the black mask covering the lower half of the other person’s face.  
“You don’t remember me, Gerard?”  
“I can’t see your fucking face.”  
“I was over here, few week ago,” the person replies. “From the club? You don’t remember me? Tuesday night, I think it was.”  
“Again,” Gerard says. “I can’t see your face. And you are pointing a gun at me so you better fucking explain what you are doing in my house. Are you the Duke? How do you know Frank?”  
“Oh, Frank and I go way back,” the person laughs. “You wouldn’t even know. Poor Frankie. Always so easy to fall in love. Too innocent for what he has to do. How would you know? You knew him for what? A few days?”  
“I’m going to ask one more time,” Gerard hisses. “Who are you?”  
“Okay, I’m done!” the person sighs. “Bill!”

Gerard whips around but he’s too late. Pain flares in the back of his head as he falls to his knees, the world spinning around him. He feels his arms being pulled behind his back and tries to struggle, but with another blow, he’s gone.


	9. A Tea Party In Prison

Gerard wakes up in a room that he doesn’t recognize. Cement walls covered in paint surround him, iron bars spanning the length of the wall to his left. A tiny window lets in light from the top of the room, near the ceiling. Gerard shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. Chains secure him to the wall. Gerard tugs at them, but not surprisingly, they don’t budge. 

He tries to remember how he got here. One moment he was in his apartment, then the letter from Frank. His attacker, the person who had been hiding in his apartment. The Duke, if Gerard had to guess. He had yelled out a name, Bill, though that didn’t give him any clues either. 

Gerard tugs against his restraints again, glancing around the cell. Whoever captured him disarmed him. He can already tell that his gun is gone. Gerard glances at the cement walls, at the words spray painted onto the sides. He can’t quite make out what it says, but he can see one word. The Organization. 

Well, shit. They’re probably going to kill him. Gerard honestly is surprised they haven’t done it already. Unless—he glances to the other side of the room as he hears footsteps echoing through the hallway. 

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” a voice says dryly.   
“Frank?” Gerard’s heart skips a beat. He twists around, trying to catch sight of where the voice came from. 

A figure steps out from the shadows. It is Frank, there’s no doubt about it. He looks gaunt, his face pale, grime streaked across his face. He’s thinner too, his hazel eyes empty and darker. He’s dressed in a red sweatshirt rolled up at the sleeves and muddy ripped jeans, both of which are several sizes too big for him. But it is him and he is alive.

Without hesitation, Frank moves over toward him, a key danging from his hand. He reaches up, unlocking the cuffs with a soft click. Gerard drops his hands, rubbing his wrists. He can’t help himself; he pulls Frank into his embrace. Frank is so familiar, warm in his arms as he rests his head on Frank’s head.   
“Hi,” Frank says, his voice muffled against his shirt. “Gee?”  
“I thought you were dead,” he whispers. “How could you do that?”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“You should tell me,” Gerard says, pulling away. “Frank, what happened—you—I can’t believe it—”  
“Gerard, I’m sorry,” Frank apologizes. “I—” 

He slaps Frank across the face, hard. The sound rings out across the room as Frank clutches his cheek, straightening, his lip bloody. There’s a red imprint from Gerard’s hand on Frank’s skin, the sight of it sending guilt racketing through Gerard.   
“I guess I deserved that,” Frank admits. “Gerard, I—”

Gerard kisses him. 

He hears the confused noise that Frank makes, but Gerard doesn’t care as he pushes Frank up against the wall. Warmth explodes in his stomach as he kisses Frank, his hand tangled in Frank’s hair. He can taste the saltiness from Frank’s split lip, the metallic tang, but he doesn’t care at all. All he cares about is the fact that Frank is alive and is in his arms. 

“What the—” Frank pants as Gerard pulls away from him. His hair is a mess, his lip still bleeding.   
“You lied,” Gerard shoots at him. “You lied about it all.”  
“I lied about a lot of things,” Frank says guiltily. “It was my job.”  
“Did you lie about us too?” Gerard asks.   
Frank looks shocked. “What? No. Never, Gerard.”  
“What even happened?” Gerard questions. “Why? What was the point of all of this?”  
“Gee—”  
“Why?” Gerard asks. “Why did you do this? You said you couldn’t explain but explain it to me now.”  
“Because they found out about you!” Frank shouts. “Okay? They figured out that the Principality lied and I was still alive. And as soon as they knew I was alive, they knew everything. I swear, I didn’t tell them anything but they knew I had told you. They contacted me, when they sent the letter. I lied then, okay? I didn’t tell you the whole truth. They told me that I had two choices. To die or to kill you and finish my mission.”  
“Kill me?” Gerard asks, shocked.   
“Yeah,” Frank laughs. “Ironic, isn’t it? I refused. I told them to kill me instead and they stepped down. They said since I didn’t know much if I killed Rhodes and proved that I was loyal to them by coming back and doing what they said, they would spare you.” He takes a deep breath, staring at Gerard with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”

He wants to scream. Maybe slap Frank again, maybe kiss him again. Gerard is torn for a moment, not knowing what he should do. What he really wants to do is find the leaders of the Organization, find the people that put Frank through this and punch them.   
“Are you okay?” Gerard asks instead. “What happened? Did they do anything to you?”  
Frank blinks at him, evidently not expecting that from him. “Are you okay?” Frank says. “I warned you, I told you to stay away! You just had to get yourself injured.”  
“They told me that you were dead. As soon as I figured out that you weren’t, you really thought I could stay away?”  
“They told you that I was dead? Who did?”  
Gerard shrugs. “That’s my question. I don’t know.”  
Frank sighs. “Great. Another thing to figure out. But Gerard, what are you doing here? I told you to stop trying to find me. How did you even get here?”  
Gerard blinks at him. “I was going to ask you that.”

“I believe that question should go to me,” a voice says from the hallway. Frank flinches, spinning around, his face going paler, his fists tightening by his sides, anger blazing in his eyes.   
“Frankie, I see that you’ve met our guest,” the person from Gerard’s apartment steps out into the light. “We meet again, Gerard Way. Did you enjoy my postcard?”

*

He’s younger than Gerard expected, possibly only a year or two older than Gerard himself. Long dark hair frames a pale face, intent eyes watching Frank and Gerard. He leans casually against the doorway, spinning a gun in his gloved hand. Now that Gerard can see his face, he does recognize him. Fuck. He should have been more careful when bringing random people back to his apartment. 

If possible, Frank looks even more angry. He takes a step forward, his fists clenched, his knuckles turning white.  
“I said to keep him out of this!” Frank yells. “You promised me that you would. That was our agreement. I would come back if you kept him out of this!”  
“Well, I did. Until he decided to poke around in the warehouses. He saw you, Frankie! He became a liability at that point. What did you want me to do with him, Frankie? Kill him? I could have, I just thought that you would like your boy toy in one piece.”

“Sorry, but who the hell are you?” Gerard asks. “And what the hell do you want with me?”  
“My name is Bert.”  
“You’re the Duke, aren’t you?”  
“I go by several names. I’ve been watching you for a while, Gerard Way. I’m glad that we got to meet again.”

“That’s good and all,” Frank interrupts, glaring daggers at Bert. “But let’s get back to the part where you broke our deal.”  
“Technically, I didn’t. You said that you would kill Rhodes and come back if we didn’t hurt him. I didn’t hurt him. He’s still alive.”  
“You kidnapped him!”  
“I still didn’t break our deal.”  
“Same difference,” Frank snaps. “You honestly think I can trust you again?”  
Bert sneers at him. “I think you have to, Frankie. Not like you have a choice.”  
Frank looks like he’s about to punch Bert so Gerard grabs his arm, forcing him to stop. Bert notices their interaction, his eyes narrowing. 

“So are you going to kill me or not?” Gerard asks, trying to redirect their attention. “If you are, get on with it already.”  
“Kill you?” Bert asks. “No. We’re not the Principality. You’re more useful to us alive than dead. And you spared Frankie for me, so I guess I have to owe you one.” Gerard notes how Frank flinches at his words. “No, we’re giving you a job, Gerard. Let’s make a deal. I’ll give you your freedom in exchange for one task.”  
“And if I refuse?”  
“Well, I’ll take Frankie’s life in compensation.” Gerard tenses at the words, stepping closer to Frank.   
“It’s not really a deal,” Gerard points out.  
Bert smiles. “Yeah. But you don’t have a choice. You have to accept it if you want Frankie to live. I do say that I’d rather if you choose that, but it doesn’t matter to me either way. I know how much you care about him though.”  
“Fine,” Gerard grits his teeth. “What do you need me to do?”  
“I can’t tell you yet. All information will be given when you are sent out. For now, you will stay with Frankie and his team.”

“What happens when Gerard’s team and the Defenders find out that he’s missing?” Frank asks. “I know how they are. They won’t stand for Gerard being taken.”  
“Well, they will, seeing as Gerard is going to call in and tell them that he’s sick.”  
“And why the hell would I do that?” Gerard asks.  
“The new security guard on Pete’s team? Yeah, Agent Bob Bryar. He’s with me. So you don’t want to cross me, Gerard. If you value your team, and your brother, which I assume that you do, you will do as I tell you.” He hands Gerard a phone. “And if you even think about telling them what happens, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through Frankie’s head.”  
“Bob?” Frank asks, glaring daggers at Bert. “Why him?”  
“Because I simply couldn’t trust you, dear,” Bert replies.  
Frank glares at him some more. “Why not any of the others? I know they would have been more than willing.”  
“Because poor Bob wanted a turn. He begged me to go, you know. He’s been a bit bitter over you lately, I’d steer clear of him.”

Gerard glares at him as he takes the phone. He looks up at Frank, who shakes his head. Taking a deep breath, Gerard looks away, punching Brian’s number into the phone.

“Gerard?” Brian picks up on the second ring. “Where are you? You called me, what did you need?”  
Bert nods at him. Glancing over at Frank, Gerard grits his teeth as he answers. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m not feeling to well. Think I’ll stay home for a bit.”  
“You okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”  
Gerard forces a laugh. “Schechter, stop worrying. I’m fine. I just threw up and have a fever and shit. I’ll be fine in a few days. Just can’t come into work.”  
“You certain you’ll be okay?”  
“Yeah. Tell Agent Bryar I said thanks.”  
“Oh, speaking of Agent Bryar, even if you’re sick, I’m sending him over to your place.”  
Gerard glances over at Bert, who nods. Oh, right. Agent Bryar works for Bert. “Yeah. That’s fine.”  
“Okay, get well soon.”  
“Thanks.” 

Gerard throws the phone at Bert as soon as Brian hangs up. “Happy?”  
“Delightfully so,” Bert responds, pocketing it. “Thank you very much.”   
“What do you want? From the job? Why can’t I just do it now?”  
“No answers for free, Gerard,” Bert grins. “Frankie? Will you show him to your quarters?”  
Frank nods, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Gerard, let’s go.”  
“Oh, and Gerard? I wouldn’t try to escape if I were you. I know how you love resisting orders, but I also know how you love your darling Frankie. You searched for him for so long and now that you finally found him, it would be terrible if you two were separated now. And I’d hate to ruin his pretty face by putting a bullet through the side.”

*

Frank practically drags him out of the room, fuming as he slams the door behind them.   
“I hate him,” he mutters. “I hate him so much.”  
“Who is he?” Gerard asks. “The Duke? Bert?”  
“An egotistical bastard who is also basically my boss.”  
“Basically?”  
“It’s complicated. We’re—it’s complicated. There’s a lot there…” Frank trails off. 

They walk in silence down the dimly lit hallway. Gerard glances at the spray paint covered walls, the water trickling down the sides. He steps around a few puddles of murky water. There aren’t any windows, at least none that he can see. Peeling green paint covers boarded up doorframes and signs. A lightbulb flickers overhead as they pass underneath it. 

He wants to escape, knows that Mikey and Ray must be out of their minds with worry. But he can’t, not right now. Gerard knows that he has to wait, bide his time until he can get out again. As much as he doesn’t want to worry his team, he can’t let Frank die because of him. Besides, he could learn more here. 

“What is this place?” Gerard asks at last.   
“The Barracks,” Frank responds. “It’s my home.” He takes a left, pushing open a door. A blast of cool air hits Gerard as he follows Frank up a flight of stairs, down another hallway, then down another two flights. This place is a maze. Gerard is surprised by how big it is. 

At last, they end up in a short corridor. Frank picks up his pace as he heads down the hallway, stopping on the second door on the left. He kneels down, fishing a key from his pocket as he unlocks the door, pushing it open.  
“After you,” he says, somewhat shyly.

The lights flicker on, illuminating a cramped, but well lit space. There aren’t any windows here either, but paint covers the walls, little drawings and sketches on all sides. A bed is pushed into the corner, blankets piled messily on top. It’s a bit of a mess, Gerard notes, sweatshirts and jeans thrown haphazardly across the room, a gun sitting on the dresser, a few knives beside it.

Frank pushes up the sleeves of his large red sweatshirt, bending to pick up a few discarded items of clothing and throwing them into drawers. 

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Gerard asks.   
Frank shrugs, not turning around. “Maybe.”  
“I’m pretty sure it is,” Gerard smiles. “Have you been only wearing my clothes for the last few months?”  
“Fuck you,” Frank mutters, shoving a drawer closed. “I like wearing your clothes.” He straightens, staring at Gerard. “I missed you,” he says softly after a moment.   
“I missed you too,” Gerard answers. “What happened after you left? I thought that they killed you.”  
“Surprisingly no,” Frank laughs. “They didn’t kill me. I’m too valuable I guess. Kinda the best they have.”  
“I bet you are.” Frank smiles slightly at his words. 

“So, the Barracks?”  
“It’s where most of us live,” Frank answers. “Us as in the people who work for the Organization.”  
“How many of you are there?”  
Frank shrugs. “I don’t know. I wasn’t lying when I told you that I didn’t know much. I know a handful of people, but we tend to keep to ourselves. I stay in my room and a few other places. Other than that, we don’t really have free rein.”  
“Have you seen Tommy?”  
“No, I haven’t,” Frank sighs. “I’m probably not allowed near the new recruits anyway.”  
“Why not?”  
Frank shrugs. “Like I said. I just do the jobs. I have no say in any of the recruitment or what I even do.”

“How do you and Bert know each other?” Gerard asks. “When he kidnapped me, he said something about the two of you, how you—”  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Frank sighs. “Please don’t make me.”  
Gerard watches him for a moment. “Of course not,” he answers.   
Frank nods, sighing quietly. He pushes past Gerard, sitting down on the small bed. Gerard hesitates for a moment before he joins Frank. After a moment, Frank leans his head against Gerard’s shoulder, his hand slipping into Gerard’s. 

“I watched you,” Frank admits. “Whenever they let me out, whenever they sent me on a mission, I’d track you down, just to see you for a bit. I just needed to see you.” Gerard can’t help but smile at that.   
“You sent the card, didn’t you?”  
“Happy birthday, by the way,” Frank says. “How did you know it was me?”  
Gerard laughs. “You’re the only one who would deliver me a cryptic card and not sign it.”  
Frank grins up at him. “True.”

Gerard runs his thumb gently over Frank’s split lip. Frank winces, pulling away.   
“Sorry,” Gerard apologizes. “I’m sorry for that.”  
Frank shrugs. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it.”  
“I’m still sorry for hurting you. I promised I wouldn’t.”  
“I hurt you more,” Frank sighs. “I’m sorry too. I never meant to—I know how much—” he fumbles for his words. “Leaving hurt me too.”  
“I thought you were dead. I looked everywhere for you.”  
“I tried to keep you out of it,” Frank says. “I tried to make sure that they would leave you alone. It didn’t work out, of course Bert broke his fucking promise. I thought I could—” he rubs his hand over his face. “I wish you weren’t here.”  
“Well, I found you,” Gerard nudges him, making Frank smile slightly. “And I’m here, so deal with it.”  
“I’m glad that you’re here. I also wish you weren’t,” Frank sighs. “I want to keep you safe.”  
“I don’t think you can unless you’re free from the Organization. You know that I won’t stop until you’re safe too.”  
“I can’t,” Frank looks up at him. “I can’t.”  
Gerard sighs, remembering the threat. He has no doubt that Bert will make good on it. “How long do you think we’ll be here?”  
“You’ll probably get out whenever Bert assigns the job,” Frank says. “Maybe I can accompany you, I don’t know.”  
“What about you?”  
“Then I return,” Frank answers. “And do whatever the next job is. Maybe I can sneak out and see you from time to time. But I guess technically, I’m the enemy.”  
“I’m not just leaving you here,” Gerard protests.   
Frank shrugs. “Like I told you from the beginning. I’m never leaving the Organization. There just is no way. I didn’t lie to you about much.”  
“But you did,” Gerard sighs.   
Frank nods. “I know. I’m sorry.”  
“No more lies, okay?”  
“I lied to you about one more thing,” Frank says. “I wasn’t alone. Just like you, I have a team. I couldn’t give them away though, like you can’t give yours away.”

He stands up, offering his hand to Gerard. Gerard takes it, following Frank as he leads Gerard down the hallway, toward a pair of double doors at the end.  
“Where are we going?”  
“To meet the others. I promise, they’re not all like Bert.”  
“The others?” Gerard echoes. Frank only smiles, tugging him forward. 

*

Three people sit up as Frank pushes open the double doors. The girl jumps to her feet. She seems around Gerard’s age, long wavy black hair tied back in a high ponytail, her dark eyes narrowed. The other two don’t stir. A ginger boy sits at a desk in the back of the room, typing furiously away at a computer. The other boy, with mousey brown hair is curled up in the corner, a blanket thrown haphazardly over his shoulders. 

“Meet my team,” Frank says proudly.  
“What’s going on?” the boy in the corner yawns sleepily, sitting up.   
“That’s Dorian Mouse,” Frank introduces. “You have your team, this is mine.”  
“Frankie, who’s your new boy toy?” the girl calls, leaning against the table.   
“Shut up,” Frank goes slightly pink. “That is April Hare. Nicest person ever, as you can tell.”  
“We saw the show you two put up in the other room. It was quite interesting,” April remarks. “Bert seemed amused.”  
Frank rolls his eyes at the comment. “That’s the Mad Hacker,” Frank points to the ginger at the desk.   
“Hi,” the ginger boy lifts his hand, waving before returning to his work.  
“April and I do most of the physical stuff, assassinations, etc. Mouse keeps the records and does research and shit. The Mad Hacker, true to their name, hacks into the systems and figures out our plans.”  
“What are we talking about?” the boy in the corner asks.   
“Shut up, Mouse,” April sighs. “The grownups are talking.”  
“I’m seventeen! I’m four years younger than you.”  
“Yeah, like I said. The grownups are talking,” April turns away from him.   
“You’re twenty one?” Gerard asks. “He’s seventeen?”  
“Well Frankie is eighteen and Mad is nineteen. We’re all young. You don’t seem very aged yourself. Frankie, are you going to introduce your boyfriend or not?”  
Frank blushes. “Everyone, this is Gerard Way. He’s not my—uh—”  
April laughs at his comment. “Welcome to the Organization, Defender.”  
“You know me?”  
“Everyone knows you. You’re the lead Defender. You’ve been hunting us down.”

Gerard takes a moment to glance around the room. It’s similar to Frank’s, but much bigger. Folding chairs are littered across the room, some leaning against walls, some set up in the middle of nowhere. Mats cover the side of one corner of the room, old pairs of sparring gloves lying on black crates. A wooden board riddled with bullet holes leans against the wall. A large folding table spans the center of the room, a stained and lumpy couch against the back wall. Empty plates and papers are scattered across all surfaces. It’s very rundown, the only technology being the computer, but it feels lived in. 

“This is the Common Room,” Frank explains. “It’s our office, living room, main space, training room, whatever we want it to be. We spend most of our time in here.”  
“Do you go anywhere else?”  
Frank shakes his head. “This hallway is ours. We aren’t allowed in most of the other ones unless we are called there.”  
“It’s a prison then.”  
“A nice one, mind you,” April snorts. “We did choose to come here.”  
“Why did you join the Organization?”  
“Why did you join the Defenders?” April retorts.   
“The Organization killed my parents,” Gerard answers smoothly. “Your turn.”  
“What’s with the interrogation?” Mouse asks.   
“Just wondering,” Gerard says.   
The last person in the room, Mad, pauses, looking up from their computer. “Because it was the right thing to do. What else were we supposed to? Stay in the Care Homes until they eventually decided to get rid of us? At least this way we could get a real life.”  
“In killing innocent people?”  
“You can’t say much about that,” April answers. “That’s what you do too.”  
Gerard can’t argue against that point. It’s true.   
“They killed my girlfriend, Summer. That’s why,” April scoffs. “And my parents. And my little sister. And everyone I’ve ever loved. You’re not going to turn us against them. You certainly can try, but it’s a doomed cause. Any other questions, pretty boy?”  
Gerard sighs. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pressed.”  
“It’s honestly fine,” April says, startling him. “There’s nothing else to do. We’ve made peace with our decisions. Or at least most of us.” She flashes a strange glance at Frank, who has been silent throughout the conversation. Gerard glances over at him too, reaching over and taking Frank’s hand in his.   
“If you don’t mind, I have one last question. Who is the Scarlet Queen?”  
Mad laughs. “I have no clue.”  
“You don’t?”  
“You didn’t get that from before? We know nothing. We’re just pawns.”  
“And that doesn’t bother you?”  
“Well, you don’t know who you work for either, so I think it’s fair game.”  
“Are you trying to take the Organization down?” Mouse asks. “Is that why you’re asking?”  
Gerard sighs. “Maybe? I also just want to learn more, you know. Since I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future, I’d like to at least get to know the Organization better. Maybe I am on the wrong side, who knows?”  
Mad laughs. “I don’t think there’s a right side,” they say, turning back to their computer.  
“Do you know anything about the Scarlet Queen?”   
“Nice necklace,” Mouse says.   
“Necklace? Oh,” Gerard glances down at the birthday gift his friends had given him.   
“Weird coincidence,” April mutters.   
“Coincidence?”  
April snickers. “She does love her roses. Only the red ones, mind you, not the white ones.”  
“What?”  
“The Scarlet Queen. She loves her red roses. It’s her symbol. That’s what Cara said, at least.”  
“Cara? Who’s that?”  
April shrugs. “Beats me. I just overheard the name in a conversation between Bert and someone else. They mentioned how the Scarlet Queen loves her red roses and hates the white roses. What?” she asks as Gerard shoots her a glance. “You think I follow the rules here? No way. I love getting into other people’s businesses and learning stuff I’m not supposed to.”  
“That makes two of you,” Frank mutters. 

*

The other three wander off after a while, leaving just the two of them in the darkened Common Room. Gerard can hear the muffled sound of voices, though he’s not sure if it’s from their hall or a different one. 

“How many people are here?” Gerard asks, glancing over at Frank.   
Frank puts down his tattered book. “I don’t know. A bunch. I’ve never explored much of the Barracks. You probably should ask April.”  
Gerard sighs. “I will.” He crosses the room, pulling out a chair and sitting next to Frank.“This is yours isn’t it?” he asks, pulling the watch out of his pocket. “I found it at one of the explosion sites.”  
Frank takes it from him, turning it over in his hands. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice that I lost it.” He slips it into his pocket.  
“Your team is great,” Gerard says. “Really, they are.”  
“I know,” Frank grins. “They’re like siblings to me.”  
“How did you meet them?”  
“I was assigned to the team. April and I were at the same Care Home, so we knew each other before. I met Mad and Dorian later. When I first came here, Mad was already part of a team. We were in the same training group. They got grouped in with April and me though. Dor came later and joined us. We’re like a family.” He yawns, leaning back in his chair. “The others are already asleep. Shall we turn in?”

Gerard shrugs, letting Frank lead the way back to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him.   
“You can sleep with me if you want,” Frank’s face goes pink when he realizes what he said. “I mean—uh—like on the bed. Or I can set you up on the floor if you want, but I’ll have to ask April for the extra blankets or I can sleep on the floor or you know, whatever you want…” he trails off.  
“Anything’s fine. Whatever is easiest,” Gerard says, slightly amused.   
“That wasn’t helpful,” Frank scowls. “Just chose one.”  
“Put me on the floor then, it’s fine.”  
Frank nods, backing out of the room. Gerard hears the unmistakable sound of April’s laugh before Frank comes back in, tossing some blankets on the floor. 

Gerard watches as Frank sets up the blankets, reminded of the tile they spent the night together at Care Home 6. If only he could transport himself back then and stop it all from happening. 

“You sure?” Frank asks. “I can take the floor. You’re my guest.”  
Gerard laughs. “Guest implies that it’s my choice to stay here.”  
“You did say the opposite to me,” Frank retorts, a smile playing out across his lips. “When you forced me to stay in your apartment. You made me take your bed, remember?”  
Gerard shrugs. “You asked, this is my choice.” He pushes Frank back gently. “Take the goddamn bed. I’d feel bad making you sleep on the floor.”  
Frank glares at him. “Now you’re making me feel bad.”  
Gerard laughs as he lies down. “Get used to it.”

The floor is uncomfortable, but Gerard doesn’t care. He rolls over, pulling the blankets up, listening to the gentle sound of Frank’s breathing. Gerard smiles to himself as he closes his eyes, hearing the faint drip of water through pipes. Weirdly, it’s almost peaceful here, in the midst of the terrorist Organization. 

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by a quiet rustle. Gerard props himself up on his elbows, seeing a dark form move.   
“Frank?” he whispers.   
“Did I wake you up?” Frank asks. “Sorry.”  
“No it’s fine,” Gerard replies. “What is it?”  
“Can I join you?”   
Gerard blinks. “Uh, sure.”

He hears a rustle as Frank slides in under the blankets besides him. Frank’s skin is cold as he moves closer to Gerard.   
“Hey,” Gerard whispers. He’s reminded of the night they spent together at the Care Home once again.   
“Hey, yourself,” Frank mumbles.   
“You’re freezing,” Gerard scolds him, pulling Frank closer, his arms wrapping around Frank’s middle.   
“Better now that I’m with you,” Frank mutters.   
“I missed you so much,” Gerard sighs into Frank’s hair.   
“Me too,” Frank shifts against him, turning so he faces Gerard. “I really missed you.” Frank kisses him, his lips soft against Gerard’s. 

Gerard doesn’t waste any time as he kisses Frank back, pushing him backward onto the floor. Frank sighs into the kiss, his hands tangling in Gerard’s hair, his legs wrapping around Gerard’s waist. They’re long overdue for one anyway. Frank tastes sweet and smells of smoke and pine. He noses down the side of Frank’s neck, kissing the pale skin, leaving faint marks down the side. Frank lets out a soft noise, his fingers tightening in Gerard’s hair as Gerard presses his lips to the hollow of his throat. 

“Gee,” Frank gasps. “Gerard—”  
“This would be probably more comfortable on the bed,” Gerard murmurs.   
“It’s too much effort to move,” Frank whispers, pulling him up for another kiss.

He slides his hand up Frank’s shirt, hearing Frank let out a soft moan as he tugs off Frank’s shirt. Frank doesn’t protest so he continues, kissing up the pale skin. His hands travel to Frank’s hips, holding him in place as he begins to fiddle with the waistband of his pants. 

Frank stiffens under his touch and Gerard pulls away instantly.   
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Do you want me to stop?”  
Frank shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he whispers. “I just—I don’t know what came over me.”   
“Did he do something to you?” Gerard asks, his voice dangerously quiet.   
“Gerard—” Frank starts.   
“Did—did anyone hurt you?”  
“He didn’t.”  
“Frank—”  
“Please don’t—” Frank whispers, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t make me talk about it.”  
“I won’t. Just tell me, okay, if I do something. Tell me,” Gerard tips Frank’s chin up. “Promise me?”  
Frank nods. He curls up toward Gerard, closing his eyes. Gerard sighs, listening to Frank’s breathing evening as he drifts off into sleep. 

*

April finds the two of them the next morning, curled up together. She alerts them to her presence by slamming the door open, flicking on the bright fluorescent lights. Gerard mutters out a few curses as she sits down on the edge of the bed, laughing. 

“You do know that there is a bed here, right?” she asks. “You didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”  
“Fuck off,” Frank mumbles, pushing himself up. “Go away.”  
“No can do,” she laughs. “Frankie, the Duke wants to see you.”  
Frank sighs. “Let me at least shower first.”

April waits until Frank is out of earshot before turning to Gerard. “I can’t say I’m surprised. As soon as Frankie came back, I had a feeling he found someone new. Never thought he’d settle down this fast.”  
“Did you and Frank—” Gerard asks, shocked.  
April shrugs, lighting her cigarette. “Him and everyone actually.” She laughs at Gerard’s expression. “What? He’s pretty. You have good taste. There’s nothing else to do on the job.”  
“Did they—”  
April nods. “I can’t say I approve. I tried to stop it. Take care of him, will you?”  
“I will,” Gerard sighs. “Of course I will.”  
“He’s—” April says. “Just be careful with him, okay? There’s certain times when—”  
“What?”  
“I shouldn’t be telling you this. You’ll see soon enough.” April doesn’t look obliged to continue, taking a drag from her cigarette. “He’s a good person.”  
“I hate to ask. But do you—”  
“No need to get jealous, pretty boy,” April laughs. “No. He’s head over heels for you. I love him like a brother. They all are, ya know? And also, I’m more into girls anyway.” Her expression turns serious. “Be gentle with him. He doesn’t like to show it, but he’s been scared for a long time. I think you capturing him was actually good. It let him get out of this hellhole for a while.”  
“Can I ask how you met?”  
“You just did. We grew up in the same Care Home.”  
“So you’re the friend he mentioned.”  
“That’s me. We came here and were assigned to someone else’s division first. Then we got assigned to Bert’s.”  
“Why does everyone have weird names?”  
“You don’t? No code names?”  
Gerard shakes his head.   
“The place here is a place to run away from what you were. That’s why the Mad Hacker goes by their name. That’s why Bert goes by the Duke. It’s a different identity. We are on the run after all. Technically we are wanted criminals.”  
“What about Dorian? Or Mouse? Which one does he prefer?”  
“Mouse? Eh, he goes by either, he doesn’t care. I call him Mouse because it’s a cool last name. Also cause it’s like mine.”  
“What about you? You didn’t change your name.”  
“Me?” April takes a drag from her cigarette. “No. I kept my name. April Hare. It’s a reminder of who I am and who my parents were, what my life was. I didn’t want to leave that behind. I wanted to keep it as a part of me.”  
“Wanted?”  
“I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t know anything anymore.”  
“Me either,” Gerard sighs. “I thought I did, until I met Frank. I guess we’re not so different after all.”  
“You know,” April muses. “Frank said the exact same thing to me when we met.”

“What about me?” Frank appears in the doorway, his dark hair gleaming with shower water, a towel slung over his shoulder.  
“Nothing,” Gerard and April say at the same time. April flashes him a grin, one that Gerard can’t help but return. Maybe the Organization, despite what it stands for, is not so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very strange not updating daily now.


	10. The Raven’s Writing Desk

Frank goes to meet with Bert every day, leaving early in the morning and coming back to their room late at night. Whenever Gerard asks, he brushes it off, saying that he’s tired. Every night, he wakes Gerard up, slipping silently out of their room and disappearing down the hallway. He returns a few hours later, shivering as he slips into their bed. Gerard curls his hand around the back of Frank’s head like he always does, holding him close. 

During the day, Gerard tries to find ways to occupy himself. Dorian and April give him access to all the documents that they have, telling him to knock himself out, but unsurprisingly, he finds nothing important. There’s nothing entailing where the Organization is located or who leads it. He worries that his team will start to worry about him, but he’s reminded of the phone call and Agent Bryar, the agent working for Bert. Agent Bryar will probably cover for him, tell his team some lies, about how Gerard still isn’t feeling well. Gerard almost laughs at that. He always prided himself in being able to spot traps a mile away, but this one was right under his nose. He wonders if Ray, Mikey, or Brian are suspicious at all. Probably, but there’s nothing he can do about it, nothing he can do but bide his time and hunt for more clues. 

The next morning, the sound of gunshots wakes him. Gerard creeps down the hallway, certain that the Defenders have found them. He kicks open the door to the Common Room, stopping as he sees Frank, his back to the door, a gun in his hands, steadily aimed at the targets in the back. Little splinters are falling to the ground, but Frank doesn’t seem to care. 

At the sound of his footsteps, Frank turns toward Gerard, lowering his gun. “Hey,” he calls. “Wanna join me?”  
Gerard sighs. “I thought someone was breaking in.”  
Frank laughs. “Target practice. Thought I’d keep myself in shape. Wanna see if you can beat me again?” He hands Gerard a gun. 

Gerard can’t help but show off a little, his body falling in the familiar rhythm. He can tell that both Frank steps to his challenge. They shoot for a while, the feeling of the gun familiar in his hands.   
“Show off,” Frank aims a kick at him.   
“You did that last time, that’s cheating,” Gerard protests, switching on the safety and placing the gun on the table. Frank follows his example, grinning as he pushes his sweaty hair out of his face. 

“Maybe,” Frank answers. “But I don’t play fair.”

He tackles Gerard, the two of them falling backward onto the tattered blue mats that line the floor. Gerard gasps as the wind is knocked out of him, but he manages to hook his knee around, throwing Frank off and climbing to his feet. 

“What was that for?” Gerard asks.   
“Sparring,” Frank tosses him a pair of gloves from a bin on the side.   
“You okay?” Gerard gives him a side glance as he straps on the worn gloves.   
“Yeah, why?” Frank’s eyes are bright, a bit too bright. He looks flushed and exhausted. “You gonna punch me or what?”

Frank attacks him first, Gerard blocking his first blow. He hears Frank let out a muffled grunt as Gerard’s fist makes contact with his stomach. He aims a kick at Gerard, but Gerard catches his foot, twisting. Gerard stumbles back as Frank recovers, swinging with his right arm. He ducks under Frank’s next punch, kneeing Frank in the stomach, bringing the two of them down onto the mat. Frank wrenches himself out of Gerard’s grasp, standing up, panting. 

“You’re pulling your punches,” Frank gasps. “Give me all you got.”  
Gerard sighs. “You asked for this.” He wrestles Frank back down to the mat until the two of them are laughing too hard to continue. 

They spar for a while longer until the two of them are flat on their backs, gasping for breath. Gerard knows he’s going to have a nasty bruise on his cheek from where Frank caught him with left hook, but he got a pretty good sucker punch in at the last minute. 

“Motherfucker,” Frank gasps.   
“You good?” Gerard glances over at him.   
“Yeah, better than good,” Frank leans over, pressing a kiss to Gerard’s cheek. “Better than good. Thanks.”  
“For what?” Gerard asks, confused.  
Frank shrugs. “Everything.” 

“Wow, what happened in here?” Mad and Dorian enter the room, glancing at the two of them sprawled on the blue mats in the corner. “It looks like a hurricane hit here.”  
“Nah, that was Gerard,” Frank wheezes as he rolls over, climbing to his feet. “Ow. He got me good. I’m gonna be sore.”   
Gerard laughs, then regrets it immediately as his sides hurt. “Hey, you got pretty good me too.”

“Frankie?” April enters the room. “You—”  
“Shit.” Frank scrambles up, wincing as he holds his side. “Shit. Yeah, sorry, I forgot.” He casts one last glance at Gerard before he vanishes out the doors.  
Gerard glances at April. “What was that?”  
“Bert,” April responds, as if that answers everything.

*

That night, Frank wakes him again, slipping softly out of bed. Gerard keeps himself still and breathing slow as Frank glances back at him as he pulls on a sweatshirt. He watches silently as Frank pulls open the door, slipping into the hallway, waiting until the door slams shut before he moves. 

It’s cold in the hallway. Gerard shivers as he creeps down the dimly lit space, hearing soft voices coming from one of the bedrooms. He glances in, seeing April fiddling with a gun, talking to Mad in hushed tones. Gerard slips by without a sound, searching for Frank. 

The sound of voices alerts him as Gerard heads toward the Common Room. He slows his pace, freezing as he hears a familiar sounding voice.  
“Frankie, come on,” Bert says.   
“Can we not?” Gerard peeks around the door frame, seeing Frank pull away from Bert. “I’m tired. I need to be alert for tomorrow.”  
“I’ll miss you,” Bert says softly. “Please? I won’t see you tomorrow.”  
Frank hesitates. “I just want to go to sleep right now,” he answers. “It’s late.”

Before Bert can react, Gerard pushes open the doors, walking in. Both Frank and Bert freeze, Frank’s gaze flickering nervously toward Gerard.   
“Gerard,” Bert greets him brusquely. “What are you doing here?”  
“I was wondering where Frank was,” Gerard answers, glancing at Frank. Frank keeps his gaze fixed to the floor, studying it as if it were intriguing.   
“We’re done here,” Bert says. “Take him.”

Frank still won’t look at him as he brushes past Gerard, heading toward the door. Gerard moves to follow him, then pauses, turning back to Bert.  
“Did you send the message that Frank was dead?” Gerard asks.   
Bert shakes his head. “I didn’t hear about a message like that. Why? What happened?”  
“Weird,” Gerard mutters. “You sure?”  
Bert nods. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he promises. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it. The only thing I did was send the postcard after I saw Frank tailing you.”  
“Do you get out of the Barracks?”  
“Sometimes,” Bert shrugs. “I’m guessing you’ve already questioned the others on the team? Don’t answer that,” he says. “I know you have. Didn’t get much information?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “None.”  
“Well, that’s the Organization for you,” Bert muses. “We know absolutely nothing, we just work for invisible figures of power. We’re just pawns, you know? Some of us are a bit higher up, but not by much. We still have no control over our fate.”  
“Why did you join then?” Gerard asks.   
Bert sighs. “Because I had to do something,” he says. “It’s the only way I could protect the ones I love.”

Thoroughly unsettled, Gerard heads back to the bedroom, slipping in softly. Frank glances up from where he’s sitting on the bed. He moves to stand up but Gerard motions for him to sit again.

“I’m sorry—” Frank starts.   
“Don’t apologize,” Gerard says. “I’m not mad, I just want to know the truth.”  
Frank nods, his gaze dropping to the blankets.   
“You and Bert?” Gerard asks softly.   
“We were, once,” Frank mutters. “Not—I don’t know.”   
“Once? He doesn’t seem to think so.”  
Frank shrugs. “It’s okay.”  
“But do you want to?” Gerard brushes a strand of hair away from Frank’s face. “It’s okay, I won’t be upset. I just want to know. April told me some of it.”  
“Of course she did,” Frank sighs. “Fine. Yeah, once, a while ago. He helped train me, helped me rise in the rankings. He got me where I am today.”  
“And?”  
“And it turned into something more for a while. I was fucked up, Gerard. I didn’t know who I was at that point. I was seventeen and highly successful. It was the first time I had to kill. That fucked me up even more. I lost my mind for a while. But Bert was there. He helped me. He helped me ever since.”  
“Does he ever force you—”  
“It’s not that,” Frank looks away. “I mean, I don’t tell him no.”  
“But do you want to?” Gerard asks softly.   
“My life has never really been mine,” Frank says. “I mean, ever since I was little. The Care Home is where kids go, kids who aren’t wanted. We become the property of the Principality. Giving myself to the Organization or to him wasn’t much different.”  
“But is it what you want?”  
Frank shrugs. “I don’t know what I want. I never have, not really. I didn’t care at all before I met you.”  
“If he does something that you don’t want, please tell him.”  
“I can’t exactly do that. He’s the reason I’m where I am. I said yes before.”  
“It’s not consensual then.”  
“I don’t need this lecture. Please don’t judge my life this way. It’s my life, there’s nothing you can do about it.”  
“Frank—”  
“It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just a way for me to forget, a distraction…” Frank trails off. “Can we not talk about this?”

Gerard hesitates, but he obliges, lapsing into silence. He doesn’t want to press Frank, but he doesn’t want to leave him like this either.   
“I did the same,” Gerard admits.   
Frank looks at him quizzically.   
“After you left—I thought you were dead. We were told that you were dead. I lost it. I was fucked up too, all the time. I slept with a lot of people as a distraction. It was an easy way to forget, to pretend that nothing was happening and my world wasn’t falling apart. I don’t blame you. Not at all, Frank. I don’t want you to blame yourself either.”  
Frank blinks. “I saw,” he admits. “Whenever I could, I’d watch you, as creepy as that sounds. I saw you. That’s why I sent the card. I didn’t know that you thought that I was dead at the time.”  
“Our relationship, whatever it is,” Gerard says. “I don’t want it just to be about sleeping together. Sure, we could at any time, but I want it to be something more, if you would be okay with that. I don’t want you to think that this is something that we have to do in order to be in a relationship or anything like that. I want you in any way I can get you. I love you, no matter what.”  
“I know you care about me,” Frank whispers. “You always have, more than most people have at least. Gerard, I don’t think you get how much that means to me. When you first kissed me in your apartment, your first reaction was to ask if I was okay with it and if you were pressuring me into it or not. You could have gotten away with anything, you had me under your control, I was fucking chained up in your apartment. I know you care. I trust you. You are the first person who has ever wanted something more romantic with me, not something that was purely about sleeping together.”   
“I love you,” Gerard says softly.” I want you to know that I really, really, love you.”  
Frank kisses him in response. “I know,” he says. “I love you too.”

*

Frank and Dorian disappear early the next morning, leaving Gerard behind with April and Mad, who act cagey whenever he asks. 

“They’re not with Bert,” Aprils sighs. “They left the compound.”  
“Is it a job?” Gerard asks.  
Mad elbows April before she can answer. “I’m sorry, but you really don’t need to know anything.”  
“I am stuck here,” Gerard points out. “What, you think I can go warn whoever they’re after? You think that I would do that to Frank?”  
“Sorry, but you are a Defender,” Mad says.  
“Hey, don’t be rude,” April pokes them.  
“I’m just stating a fact,” Mad raises their hands. “He worked for the Defenders, our enemy. Who’s to say that he won’t want us killed too? He wants to take down the Organization.  
“Mad, you’re being kinda mean,” April says.   
“No, it’s a fair question,” Gerard says. “I know you aren’t going to immediately trust me. I did work for the Defenders, do work still, I guess. I don’t know anymore. The Defenders, the Organization, I used to think it was us versus them, but now I don’t think so anymore. Meeting Frank, meeting all of you, I think that I’ve learned that there’s more to this than I realized.”  
“How so?” Mad crosses their arms.  
“I mean, who are we working for? I don’t know who the Defenders are being led by. You don’t know who leads the Organization, even Bert doesn’t know. We’re just pawns. I can’t blame you for everything that has happened, you were just following orders.”  
Mad sighs. “What do you want to figure out then? I can’t promise that we’ll help you.”  
“We don’t know much,” April interjects. “You know that already.”  
Gerard shrugs. “Something is better than nothing, right?”  
Mad laughs. “I guess so,” they answer.   
“The explosions,” Gerard says. “I know it was you guys behind it. Why did you do it?”  
“You don’t give up, do you?” April sighs. “No, I don’t know. Yes, it was our team responsible for most of the explosions, mostly me and Frankie. Why, we don’t really know. Just had to scout things out. Mad and Mouse took care of the security and planning. I didn’t even know they were food storage until now.”  
“Why would the Organization target food storage?” Gerard asks.   
“Fear?” Mad wonders out loud. “They could be frightening the people, especially those in the Fifth and Sixth Sectors.”  
“But why would they want to do that? Don’t most of the recruits for the Organization come from there?” Gerard asks, puzzled.   
April shrugs. “The four of us did, but there are others who didn’t, I bet.”  
“You bet?”  
“As I said, I know nothing,” April says. “But I’d guess that there must be people from higher positions in the Principality. How else are they getting the funds for the hits? Explosives aren’t cheap, mind you.”  
“We can look into it,” Mad sighs. “But I won’t do anything that gets us into trouble.”  
April laughs. “I will.”  
“I thought you wanted to take down the Principality,” Gerard says.   
April shrugs. “Guess I’m not one for authority. I like knowing why I’m doing things. You’re right, we are blindly following orders.”  
Mad groans loudly. “You, Hare, are going to be the death of me. But is that it?” they ask. “Can I go?”  
“One more thing. Someone told me and my team that Frank was dead. It wasn’t Bert, he didn’t know about it. It also couldn’t have been from Agent Bryar because his orders come from Bert and if so, Bert had to have known. But it must have been from the Organization.”  
“Did it?”  
“The Defenders tried to keep most of the news about Frank quiet. They didn’t want to make a big deal about Rhodes and show how we failed at killing him. If they had killed Frank, they would have broadcasted the news to show everyone that we could protect them and catch the Organization. So it couldn’t have been the Defenders.”  
“Why would the Organization do that?” Mad asks.   
“To keep you away?” April puts in. The two of them glance at her. “What? It makes sense. Someone knew that you were close with Frank and they ordered him to come back. But if they told you and your team, they must have known that you wouldn’t stop searching for Frank unless you knew that there wasn’t any way. So they told you he was dead to stop you. And it worked.”  
“Your parents were killed by the Organization, right?” Mad asks.   
Gerard nods. “Yeah, why?”  
Mad shrugs. “Just wondering. Humor me for a moment, how do you know?”  
Gerard stares at him. “I mean, there’s no other way,” he stammers. How did he know? Cold flashes through him. Like how did he know that Frank was dead. “No one else would have wanted to kill my parents. There wasn’t a reason why anyone would have wanted them dead.”  
“What did they do?”  
“They were Defenders,” Gerard answers.   
“But who told you that they were killed by the Organization?”  
“Everyone?” Gerard asks. “I mean, I think I was told by just about everyone.”  
“We can look into it,” April says. “Or I guess I’ll look into it.”  
Mad rolls their eyes. “Don’t get in trouble,” they warn. “The Organization doesn’t like people who step out of line.”  
April winks at them. “You know me,” she says. “I never get into trouble.”

*

The sound of footsteps the next day alerts them to Frank and Dorian’s arrival. Gerard jumps up, followed by the other members of the team. He hears the door creak open, then slam shut, the sound echoing through the hall as Frank and Dorian slip in. 

“Frank—” Gerard moves toward him, but Frank brushes past them, practically running toward his room at the end of the hall. He hears the door slam, followed by silence. April turns, following him down the hall. Gerard watches as she says something, knocking quietly on the door.   
“How did it go?” Mad asks Dorian. “Y’all okay?”  
Dorian sighs, dropping a bag on the floor. “The usual,” he says.   
“You didn’t get seen, right?”  
Dorian rolls his eyes. “Really, Mad?”  
“Just being careful,” Mad puts their hands up.   
“Is Frank okay?” Gerard asks April as she returns. “What happened?”  
“He gets like this after a kill,” April says softly. “You might just want to leave him alone.”  
Dorian nods. “I don’t know, he’s been more touchy about them recently. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to shower.”  
“Are you going to check on Frank?” April asks.   
Gerard nods. “I can’t leave him alone, not like this.”  
April sighs. “Good luck,” she says. “Be careful with him.”

Gerard heads down the hallway, stopping at the bedroom door, rapping on it quietly.   
“Frankie, it’s me,” Gerard calls. “Are you okay?”   
There’s no response.   
“We’re worried about you,” Gerard continues. “Can I come in? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”  
He jumps when he hears a muffled thud. Gerard’s heart leaps in his chest as he twists the knob, pushing the door open.

Frank hasn’t bothered to clean the blood off of his face and hands. He sits on the floor, huddled with his knees pulled to his chest, rocking back and forth, notebooks strewn out on the floor in front of him. He looks up when Gerard enters, looking up at him with red, raw rimmed eyes from crying. 

“Go away,” he splutters. “I don’t—please leave me alone.”  
Gerard takes a tentative step forward. “I can’t do that. Talk to me.”  
“I know all of the people I’ve killed. I can’t forget about them,” Frank mutters. “I can’t. They’re going to haunt me forever. I can still see them. They’re all here. The blood—Gee, the blood. I killed them all.”

Gerard kneels down beside him, taking Frank’s hands in his own.   
“Breathe, baby,” Gerard whispers. “It’s okay.”  
“I killed innocent people,” Frank mutters. “I’ve killed so many people. Look at this!” he screams, standing up all of a sudden. “Look at all the names! I can’t forget any of them, I can’t. I’ve killed so many people.”  
“Frank,” Gerard rises to his feet. “Baby, take a deep breath.”  
“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m a murderer. I’ll—” Frank stammers out. “Get away from me.” He makes a shoving motion with his hands, trying to shove Gerard away. 

Gerard pulls him closer instead, wrapping his arms around Frank, holding him tightly. Frank stops struggling, burying his face in Gerard’s shoulder, his body shaking.   
“That’s it,” Gerard whispers. “Deep breaths.” He strokes Frank’s hair and back gently, feeling him shaking. 

Frank kisses him without warning, his hands looping around Gerard’s neck. He tastes like alcohol as he presses closer to Gerard. “Fuck me,” Frank whispers.   
“What?” Gerard pulls back, looking at him. “Frank, are you drunk?” He glances around, seeing a bottle lying on the floor, then noticing how Frank’s eyes are bright and his face is flushed.   
“I can’t stop seeing it,” Frank pleads. “I need to forget about it. Please.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “I can’t take advantage of you like that.”  
“You’re not. I’m asking you to. Please, Gerard. If you don’t, I’ll find someone to, I don’t know, I—”  
“Frank, stop for a second,” Gerard holds his shoulders. “Look at me.”  
Frank reluctantly does, his eyes wide and shining with tears.   
“Do you want this?” he asks. Gerard does, he has for so long now. But he won’t unless he knows for certain. “Tell me the truth. Right now, do you want this?”  
“I want you,” Frank mumbles. “I told you that a long time ago. I just—I can’t forget right now. I need to. Do you not want to? Is that why—”  
“If you ask tomorrow,” Gerard says. “And when you’re sober, then yes. Anything you want, okay? But not today, okay? I don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

At last, Frank seems to settle down, his head resting against Gerard’s shoulder. He mumbles something as Gerard moves away, sitting Frank down on the bed.  
“I’m going to clean you off, okay?” Gerard says softly.   
Frank nods, his eyes half closed. 

Gerard moves away, wetting a towel with warm water. He wipes it gently on Frank’s face, cleaning away the splatters of dried blood and tears.   
“It’s okay,” he comforts. “You’re okay.”  
“I can’t forget,” Frank whispers. “I can’t forget all of them.”  
“You’re a better person than me then,” Gerard says, cupping Frank’s face in his hands. “I don’t even remember who I’ve killed.” He takes Frank’s hands, wiping the dried blood from them. 

“I’m going to take off your shoes and socks, okay?” Gerard says. He waits for Frank to nod before he does so, Frank watching him silently. “Can you take off your shirt? I can turn around if you want.”

Frank shrugs, pulling off his shirt in a swift motion. Gerard tries not the stare as he hands Frank a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Frank doesn’t seem to care, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his blood soaked jeans. Gerard looks away as Frank does, his face heating up. 

“You can, uh, turn back now,” Frank mutters. He’s dressed in clean clothes, looking even smaller and possibly more scared.   
“Do you want me to stay?” Gerard asks.  
Frank nods. “Please,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He lifts the blankets, crawling under them beside Frank. Frank lets out a soft sigh as he curls toward Gerard, his hand brushing against Gerard’s chest.   
“Thank you,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”  
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Gerard chastises him softly. He strokes Frank’s hair, running his hand down Frank’s back.  
Frank presses his face into Gerard’s shoulder.“I hate it,” he whispers. “I hate this so much. I hate the jobs, I hate killing people.”  
“I know,” Gerard soothes. “It’s okay.”  
“I want to leave,” Frank presses closer to him, his body trembling. “I wanted to leave with you. I wanted to stay with you then. I want to get out of here.”  
“I will then,” Gerard vows. “I’ll help you leave. We can go away and forget about all of this, the Organization, the Defenders, it won’t matter to us anymore, okay?”

*

Frank seems mostly back to normal the next day, giving no indication of what happened the day before. Gerard wants to stay with him, but he has to accompany April and Mouse down to the Archive room, the three of them sneaking out of their floor. The Archive room, as April told him, is where the actual plans and orders are kept. They get their debriefings through people like Bert, but the important information is kept there. He has no clue how April discovered this escape route, as she kicks down a part of the wall, climbing into the narrow pipes. 

Gerard glances out at the ground. There’s nothing here to clue him in on where he is. The pipes circle around the inside of a narrow courtyard, the ground barren beneath them. He assumes that on the other side, there are other buildings, but there’s nothing around to show him where he is. Its purposeful, he knows that. Not just for him, but for everyone who works in the Organization. Secrecy, as Frank told him, was everything. 

He follows Dorian and April as they climb nimbly along the pipes, moving up two floors, then over to the other side of the courtyard. Dorian hands April a small wire as if they’ve done this a thousand times, something that Gerard has begun to suspect is the case. April inserts the wire under the sill of a window, wedging it up enough so she can get her hand in and push it up. She climbs through, helping Dorian in after her. Gerard climbs in after her, landing on the dusty floor with a quiet thud.

“We can talk now,” April whispers. “Still, be quiet, mind you. We’re just above the conference room and I don’t know if anyone is in there right now.  
“So the explosions?” Gerard asks. “Where should the files be?”  
“Look for the date,” Mouse advises. “Should be 6-19, that’s when it had to be completed by.”  
April shrugs. “Cool. I’ll go left, you go right, Mouse, keep watch?”

The three of them split up. Gerard scans the rows and rows of dusty folders, peeling yellow labels. 3-1, 3-7, 3-20, 4-3, 4-30. He sees one labeled 5-11, skidding to a halt. May 11th. That was the day that his parents were killed. Gerard hesitates, knowing he needs to move on, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

His fingers brush against the dusty papers as he opens the folders, his heartbeat thudding in his chest. He’s not sure what he is expecting exactly, maybe his parent’s names, maybe an order. But a single piece of paper flutters out. Gerard picks it up, flipping it over. A white rose is printed on it. There’s nothing else. 

“Guys!” April calls. “I found it. Let’s go.”

Gerard stuffs the paper in his pocket, turning as he runs toward the window they came in through. April and Mouse are already through the window.   
“You okay?” April asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
Gerard shrugs. “Let’s just go.”

The trip back to their hall is quick, the three of them climbing silently along the side of the building as they slip back into the hall. April gives Gerard a worried glance, as she and Dorian head to examine the files, but he ignores it, heading toward Frank’s room. 

“You okay?” Gerard hears Mad’s voice as he nears Frank’s room.  
“Yeah,” Frank replies. “Of course.”  
“You sure?” Mad sounds hesitant. “We were worried—”  
“I’m fine,” Frank snaps. He sighs. “Mad, sorry. I’m just tired.”  
Mad drops a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “I know,” they say. “Talk to us if you need us, okay?”  
Frank nods. “Thanks,” he says tiredly.

Mad’s gaze flicks up to Gerard as they exit the room.   
“Is he okay?” Gerard asks softly.   
Mad shrugs. “I don’t know,” they respond. They hesitate for a moment. “It’s worse than it usually is.”  
Gerard glances sat them. “What do you mean?”  
Mad shakes their head. “I don’t know. I think you should just be with him for a while.”  
“Thanks,” Gerard says.   
Mad gives him a rare smile. “Don’t thank me, I’m doing it for Frankie.”

Gerard pushes the door open, seeing Frank curled up on the bed. 

“Hey,” Gerard sits down next to him, resting his hand on Frank’s forehead. “You okay?”  
“Yeah.” Frank settles into his lap easily, looping his arms over Gerard’s neck, his breath warm against Gerard’s face. “I missed you.”  
“It’s been like an hour.” Gerard isn’t complaining though.   
“An hour too long. Besides, we have lost time to make up for. Where were you?”  
“Talking to April and Mad,” Gerard says.   
“I’m fine,” Frank sighs. “I keep telling you that. I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. All of you are acting like my parents.”  
Gerard gives him a look. “I think I’m always going to worry about you.” The memories from last night are too fresh in his mind.  
Frank rolls his eyes at that.   
“I know you’re going to hate me for asking this,” Gerard says softly. “But are you feeling better?”  
Frank pulls away. “I’m fine,” he says. “I feel fine.”  
“You snapped at Mad. They were just trying to see if you were okay.”  
“Because you all are treating me like I’m made of glass,” Frank retorts. “I’m _fine_ , I’ve done this before. It’s not like this is my first job or my first kill.” His voice wavers slightly. “I’m not weak.”  
“We don’t think you are,” Gerard cups Frank’s face in his hands. “Hey, look at me. That’s not why we’re asking. I know you’re strong. You’re stronger than most of us.”  
Frank raises an eyebrow. “Sure,” he mutters.   
“It’s true,” Gerard insists. “It’s easier for the rest of us to forget and pretend that the people we kill aren’t actually people. You actually care, Frankie. It’s because you’re a good person, better than the rest of us. You’re strong enough to remember and care and let it not tear you apart. I love that about you.”  
Frank kisses him without another word, pushing Gerard backward, straddling him. His lips are soft and warm, a lingering taste on his tongue. Gerard’s hands find holds on Frank’s hips, keeping him in place. He hears Frank’s breath hitch as he moves lower, leaving kisses across his jawline and down the side of his neck. 

“You’re strong,” Gerard whispers against his skin. “I know that.”  
“Gerard—” Frank gasps as Gerard kisses the hollow of his throat.   
“Hmm?” Gerard asks, his hand roaming under Frank’s T-shirt, tugging it up and over Frank’s head. Frank leans down to kiss him again just as the door swings open, making both of them jump.

“Frankie, I—oh my lord.” April shields her eyes, turning her back.  
“God!” Gerard exclaims, sitting up.   
“Don’t you knock?” Frank says crossly.   
April rolls her eyes, half turned away. “When you two are done, please come to the common area? Like soon? Thanks.” She disappears out the door. 

“We should probably go,” Gerard murmurs. “I don’t want to stop this, though.”  
Frank blushes. “Yeah, but I think April will kick our asses.”  
Gerard grins. “I don’t doubt that.”

Frank kisses his cheek before they leave the room. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I love you.”  
“Anytime,” Gerard reaches over, taking Frank’s hand in his. 

Bert is waiting for them when the two of them walk into the Common Room, hand in hand. His eyebrows raise at the sight of them. April elbows Dorian. Gerard swears that he sees money exchange hands, but he chooses to ignore it.   
“I have your task,” he says as a way of greeting. “Frank will accompany you.”  
April snorts in the corner.  
“What?” Bert turns on her.  
“Nothing,” she snickers, her face bright pink.   
Gerard glares at her. “What do you need me to do?” he asks Bert.   
“I hope I don’t have to remind you that if you deviate from it, everyone you love will die,” Bert says. “But you know that already. You’ve been a good boy lately, Gerard.”  
The comment irks him. Gerard grits his teeth. “Well, not all of us can afford to be assholes.”  
Bert glares at him. “You will accept your task,” he says.   
Gerard rolls his eyes. “Seeing as I don’t have a choice, what?” he asks. “You better hurry, my team will start to worry.”  
“Oh, Agent Bryar has them placated,” Bert smirks. “You can’t outsmart us, Way. Don’t try.”  
“What is my task?” Gerard sighs. “Cut to the chase.”  
“Oh that,” Bert answers. “Well, Gerard, you’re going to kill the President.”


	11. The Queen Of Rosebush Red

“You’re kidding,” Gerard gasps. “President Williams?”  
“You and Frank’s whole team.”  
“You can’t be serious.”  
Bert’s eyes narrow. “Do you have a problem?” His hand travels to his gun.   
Gerard forces himself to swallow his next retort. “No. When do we leave?”  
Bert smiles. “Excellent. Frankie, get him ready, you leave in the morning. You have a week to prepare. The details will be sent to you later on, but the kill date is a week from today. On February 15th. Don’t step out of line.”

Gerard slumps into a chair as the door slams shut.   
“The President,” Gerard repeats. “Why me?”  
“Do you know him?” Frank asks.   
Gerard nods. “I’ve met him a few times. I don’t know him well.”  
“Are you actually going to kill him?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “No way. I’m not giving them what they want.”  
“They’ll kill everyone.”  
“Not if we stop them first. Will you help me?”  
“You have to,” Mad says. “You know that. If you don’t, they will kill everyone you care about.”  
“I’ll figure something out,” Gerard sighs. “I just can’t do this.”  
“Tell him he has to,” Mad groans. “You don’t have a choice, don’t you see this? I thought you didn’t care for the Principality either.”  
“I care for it more than the Organization.”  
Mad sighs. “April, Mouse, help me.”  
“There’s just…” April trails off. “I need to talk to tell you all something. We do.”  
“Did you find anything in the files?”  
“The files?” Mad asks.   
April hesitates, her eyes flicking over to Mouse.  
“Oh my god, you went to the Archive room,” Mad sighs. “Why? Aren’t you on our side?”  
“Of course,” April snaps. She runs her hand through her hair. “Maybe not. I don’t know anymore.”  
“I should have known that you would all turn against us and go to their side.”  
“It’s not that,” April pleads. “There isn’t a side anymore. I think Gerard is right. There aren’t really any sides, are there?”  
“You’ll be counted as traitors,” Mad warns.   
“It’s better than doing the wrong thing,” Dorian says. “C’mon Mad, what are we really doing here? Trying to make a difference?”  
“Yeah, we are. We’re fighting for kids like us.”  
“That’s the point,” April snaps. “Are we? Because what we found seems to be pointing against that.”  
“What did you find?” Frank asks.   
“Count me out,” Mad sighs. “I don’t want to be part of this.”  
“Mad,” Dorian reaches out to them, but Mad shrugs him off, shutting the door behind them. 

April sighs. “Remember the explosions?” she asks.  
Frank nods. “How could I forget?”  
“I thought we were helping kids,” she says. “But we’re not, are we? The file details everything. Because those explosions were targeting the food storages and the food storages go to the Sixth , Fourth, and Fifth sectors. I thought they went to the First and Second, but no. They go to the ones with the Care Homes. The less food there is, the less goes to the kids who were like us. We’re hurting kids like us.”  
Frank frowns. “The Organization said that they were meant to help kids like us.”  
“I know,” Dorian sighs. “I don’t understand. Why would they do this? They’re meant to help kids like us. It’s almost like they’re just like the Principality.”  
“I hate to admit this,” April sighs. “But Gerard, I think you might be right. Maybe the Principality isn’t good, but the Organization is no better.”  
“There’s something else too,” Gerard says. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the folded piece of paper. “I found the folder marked with the day my parents died. This was all that was in it.”  
Dorian takes it from him, frowning. “I don’t understand,” he says. “What does it mean?”  
“I don’t know,” April says. “A white rose? I thought it would be a kill order.”  
“You’ve never seen it before?” Gerard asks.  
Frank shakes his head. “No, we don’t get access to these files. Unless you’re someone like April who sneaks in. They tell us our missions. Bert is our correspondent. It’s probably a code of some sort.”  
“But why a code?” Gerard asks. “They’re secretive. Who are they hiding this from?”  
“People like you? Or us?” Dorian wonders.  
“No, it can’t be,” Frank says. “They expect all of us to be loyal. If we get caught, it’s grounds for immediate death. And Gerard’s the only Defender I’ve ever heard of being here.”  
“You’re right, it makes no sense,” April sighs. “I can try to look into it, go back to the Archive room and see if I can find anything else.”  
“Just be careful,” Gerard warns. “Don’t let them catch you.”  
April grins. “We won’t.”

“So we just decide to turn on the Organization?” Dorian asks. “Then what? Would the Principality help us?”  
Gerard hesitates. “If you asked me that a year ago, I would have said yes. Now, I don’t know. I don’t know if we can trust the Principality or the Defenders. With Agent Bryar having infiltrated it, then having the whole thing with Frank, I just don’t know anymore.”  
“Can we trust anyone?”  
“Us,” Gerard says. “My team. That’s it. Until we know more at least.”  
“What do we do about the President?” Dorian asks.  
“Go along with it,” Gerard sighs. “Or at least pretend to. He gave me until next week. I guess we stall for time until we know more or can overthrow the Organization, and or the Principality, or whatever else we need to do?”  
April laughs. “So it’s an impossible task. Well, it sounds fun, I’m in.” Gerard wishes he could have shared April’s sentiment.

Later that night, two cups of tea are delivered to their door. Gerard peers down at his cup, swirling around the amber liquid. Something white fizzes in his drink, making him wrinkle his nose.

“Drink it,” Frank mutters.   
“What is it?”  
“A tranquilizer.”  
“What?” Gerard stares at him.  
“Remember how I told you security here is tight? Yeah, they make sure there is no way we could figure out where we are. You have to take it or they won’t let us out. It sucks, I know.”

Gerard grimaces as he lifts the cup to his lips, draining the bitter liquid.   
“What now?”  
“We wait,” Frank sighs, leaning against his shoulder, his hand slipping into Gerard’s. 

The door creaks open a few moments later, a tired looking April slipping in.   
“Everyone else is still asleep,” she says. “You guys ready?”  
Frank yawns. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he mutters.  
“Be careful,” April says. “We’ll be in touch.”  
Gerard nods. “You too.”  
“Well,” April stands up, moving toward the door. “Good luck. See you soon.”

As the minutes tick by, Gerard fights to stay awake, but he can tell that he’s losing, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.   
“You still awake?” Frank murmurs.   
“Yeah,” Gerard whispers. “Not for much longer.”  
Frank lets out a quiet laugh. “See you on the other side.”  
Gerard kisses the top of his head. “See you there.”

*

In his dream, Gerard is falling in the darkness. The wind whistles through his hair as the world rushes by him, the sound of laughter echoing around him. He has the strangest feeling that he’s rocking back and forth, but that can’t be right because he’s falling. 

“Why are we doing this?” a voice asks.   
“Why are we doing this? Why are you doing this? It’s your idea,” another voice retorts.  
“Well, she’s going to be mad if it doesn’t work out.”  
“It’s going to work out, I promise.”  
“It better.”  
“It’s another rose this time?”  
“White, of course.”  
“Oh, she doesn’t like that.”  
“She never does.”

Gerard realizes that he can’t be falling. That makes no sense, if he’s falling then he’s going to hit the bottom at some point. His fingers brush against rough pieces of wood as he reaches out, trying to grasp something to slow his fall, knocking a glass jar off a shelf. Gerard grabs it as it falls toward him.

“Orange marmalade,” Gerard reads out, then starts to laugh, finding it extraordinarily funny even though there is nothing funny about the current predicament he is in as he falls faster and faster. He lets go of the jar, realizing that it’s probably going to hit someone below. Actually, wait, he’s going to hit someone below, it doesn’t matter if the jar does or not. At any moment, he’s going to hit the bottom and probably die. For some reason, he finds that even more funny. 

_Remember the roses._

He wakes up in his bedroom. Gerard blinks in the sunlight, sitting up, rolling over to see the sleeping form of Frank beside him.   
“Good, you’re up,” Agent Bryar stands in the doorway. “You need to go into the office, Way.”  
“That’s not fucking creepy,” Gerard mutters, coughing as his throat is sore. “Excuse me for a moment, I feel like I’ve just been hit by a truck.”  
Agent Bryar continues watching him.   
“By that, I mean get out,” Gerard says irritably. “Or I’m going to fucking do something you will regret.”

Apparently that threat worked, since Agent Bryar leaves, closing the door most of the way behind him.   
Gerard rolls his eyes, glancing over to where Frank is still asleep. This is the first time Gerard has slept in his own bed for a long time. Frank looks peaceful, curled on his side, his hair falling into his face, his lips slightly parted as he breathes.   
“Hey,” Gerard whispers. “Wake up.”  
Frank lets out a soft groan, rolling over.   
Gerard can’t help but laugh at that, shaking Frank’s shoulder gently.   
“You have to wake up,” he says. “Come on, Frankie.” He kisses Frank’s forehead. “Wake up.”  
Frank opens his eyes, batting Gerard away. “I’m awake,” he sighs. “Are we—is this your apartment?”  
“Welcome back,” Gerard grins. “Our bodyguard wants us to go.”   
Frank wrinkles his nose. “Bodyguard? He’s like the farthest you could possibly get from a bodyguard.”  
Gerard shrugs. “Whatever. I have to go to the office. I think Bryar is going to come with me.”  
“What does he want me to do?”

“Stay here,” Agent Bryar appears at the doorway.  
“Okay, we are going to make a rule,” Gerard scowls. “Frank is here to keep me in line, so kindly get the fuck out of my personal life?”  
“I’m taking you to the office.” Agent Bryar doesn’t react. “We’re going now.”  
Frank sighs. “Go, let me sleep more.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes, kissing Frank’s forehead again, but obliging, following Agent Bryar out of the room. 

His apartment is surprisingly the same, everything more or less how he remembered it being before he was kidnapped a week ago. Gerard can’t help but snicker as he passes by the dining room table, seeing the used coffee mugs still there. He definitely needs to dump those out before they start growing something green and hairy. Speaking of which, his groceries probably have gone bad at this point. 

Gerard zones out on the ride to the office, staring out the window at the familiar streets. Everything seems different to him as he watches people mill around on the sidewalks and inside restaurants. If only they knew what the Organization was planning to do, what Gerard had to do. 

He can’t help but smile as he walks into the office building, picking up his pace when he finally gets to his hallway, practically running into his office. 

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure—” the conversation cuts off as Gerard throws open the door. Mikey, Ray, Brian, and Pete are gathered around the center table. 

As soon as Gerard walks in, Mikey tackles him.   
“Gerard?” Ray runs over to him. “I didn’t know you’d be coming in.”  
“That must have been some nasty cold,” Brian says.   
“Yeah,” Gerard says as Agent Bryar gives him a glance. “Sorry. I woke up feeling better this morning.”  
“Well, Bryar has been keeping us up to date,” Brian says. “Has he filled you in?”  
“Didn’t have the time,” Bryar responds. “He slept through most of the time.”  
“You feeling better though?” Mikey asks.   
“Yeah,” Gerard nods. “So what’s going on?”  
“We were researching the explosions,” Brian says. “There hasn’t been one for a while.” That’s right, Gerard thinks guilty to himself. Because Frank was with me.   
“But there was one more kill the other day,” Ray says. “The Secretary of Agriculture.” So that’s who Frank was sent to kill. “Any ideas?”  
Gerard flashes Mikey a glance, the _cover for me_ glance. Mikey, thankfully after doing this for Gerard for who knows how long, catches on.   
“I think Gerard should go home and rest,” Mikey fibs. “He’s probably still tired.”  
Gerard feigns a yawn. “It was great seeing you all, but I don’t want to get any worse. Mikey, can you drive me home?”  
“Do you not want Agent Bryar to take you?”  
Gerard forces a fake laugh. “He’s been stuck with me for a week, I think he should get some time off.”  
Agent Bryar shoots him a glance. “I think I should—”  
“It’s really fine,” Gerard grins easily. “I’m okay, Mikey and Ray can accompany me home and make sure I don’t die and shit. If anything gets worse, they can take me to the hospital or whatever the fuck Brian wants me to do. Thanks for everything,” he says. “You really deserve a break.”  
Brian nods. “How about Pete and I take you out for drinks?” he asks Agent Bryar.  
Gerard grins inwardly as Agent Bryar hesitates, then nods, knowing that he is caught. He can’t seem too eager to go with Gerard or his team will start to suspect something is wrong. 

“Great,” Gerard hops up. “Lets go. I’m exhausted.” He practically skips out of the office room. 

Mikey and Ray catch up with him in the car, Ray sliding into the drivers seat.   
“Are you actually okay?” Mikey asks. “How are you? I wanted to see you, but Bryar said you were puking up your guts.”  
Gerard flashes him a glance. “I’ll tell you later.” He doesn’t know if Bob has bugged anything while he was away and he doesn’t want to run that risk. 

When they get to his apartment, Gerard knocks three times on the door, two long and one short before he unlocks the door. He hopes that Frank caught on and is hiding himself.  
“Who are you knocking for?” Mikey asks.  
Gerard shrugs, opening the door and beckoning Ray and Mikey in. 

“What happened in here?” Ray asks. Gerard locks the door, glancing around the apartment. It’s a mess, more of a mess than when he left. His heart hammers in his chest as he glances around. But there are no signs of a scuffle or any traces of blood. It simply looks as if everything has been torn apart. 

Gerard hears a thump before Frank steps out from around the door, handing Gerard a bag of crushed up plastic.   
“I debugged it for you,” he says. “Here you go.”  
Gerard throws his arms around Frank. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Frank says, his voice muffled by Gerard’s shoulder. “Hi Mikey, hi Ray.”  
“What—” Ray splutters. “I thought you were dead.” He looks at Gerard accusingly.   
Gerard holds up his hands. “I thought so too until I was kidnapped.”  
“You were what?” Mikey exclaims.   
“Captured by the Organization.”  
“You were captured by the Organization?” Ray yells. “What the fuck?”  
“I told you something was off,” Mikey crows. “They didn’t believe me. I asked why in the world you would ask Agent Bryar to accompany you. You hate people.”  
“Wow, thanks,” Gerard says dryly. “But yeah.”  
“Holy shit,” Mikey sits down. “What else happened?”  
“Uh, a lot,” Gerard answers. “You guys might want to get comfortable. It’s going to take a bit to explain.”

*

“I’m never leaving you alone again,” Ray says. “We let you go for a second, and this happens.”  
“You have to kill the President?” Mikey asks at last.   
Gerard nods. “I’m not going to, obviously, but that just means that we have to take down the Organization in the next week. Or all of us die.”  
“All of us?”  
“All of us,” Gerard confirms. “You, Ray, me, Frank, oh, and probably Brian and Pete, Patrick, Andy, Joe—”  
“Okay, we got the point,” Mikey sighs. “The question is how?”  
“Agent Bryar is working for the Organization. We can’t trust him.”  
“I assumed as much,” Mikey mutters. “I mean, he was acting so weird for the past week. He wouldn’t let us see you.”  
“Also, it’s the Organization we’re talking about,” Ray points out. “They live for killing people.”  
“But why me?” Gerard asks. “You’re right, they can assassinate anyone they want. Why go through the trouble of kidnapping and threatning me?” The three of them glance over to Frank, who shrugs.   
“Beats me,” he says. “Why Bert had you kidnapped, it was because you were getting too close to discovering our team and what we were doing and he couldn’t kill you because of me. I don’t know why they didn’t just send someone else out. Like they could have sent me instead of assigning me to accompany you. Or even had Agent Bryar do it. It doesn’t make sense.”  
“His reputation?” Ray asks. “Gerard, you’re lead Defender. If anyone can get close to the President, it’s you.”  
“I figured that much out already,” Gerard groans. “It just means I can’t fake that I couldn’t do it.”  
“Well, we can’t do anything about that,” Mikey sighs. “Should we tell Brian? Pete and the team?”  
Gerard hesitates. “Let’s keep this just between the four of us. I think the less people who know, the better. I don’t think we can trust the Principality right now. Who knows how many people the Organization has inside?”

“So now what?” Mikey asks. “We have a week or you have to kill the President. Not to mention the fact that we  
“We could double security,” Ray suggests half heartedly. “Warn them of an assassination attempt. But if we don’t manage to stop the Organization, it will only make your job more difficult.”  
“Not to mention the fact that if the Organization thinks it is suspicious, they might send someone to check us out,” Frank says. “They don’t exactly trust either of us right now.”  
“So they bugged your apartment,” Ray says. “What else did they do? They sent Frank here with you, but I guess they don’t trust him.”  
“We have to assume that they’re watching us,” Gerard says. “In any possible way.”  
Mikey nods. “I guess the two of you should hide out here. We’ll try to keep Agent Bryar away and find the Organization.”  
“And if we can’t find them, what should I do?” Gerard asks. “Just kill the President then? You know that they won’t let me off the hook. There will be another task.”  
Frank sighs. “Sadly, yeah I think you’re right. I doubt they will just let you go. Not when they have someone on the inside.”

“Do they trust your team?” Gerard asks.   
Frank shrugs. “I don’t know.”  
“Wait, your team?” Ray asks.   
Frank nods. “Yeah, they should be here soon, if they can get out. They’ll help us.”  
Mikey glances at Gerard. “Can we trust them?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard says. “I met them. They’re fine, they’re on our side.”  
“If you say so,” Mikey mutters.   
“We need all the help we can get,” Ray says, elbowing Mikey. “And if they know more, who knows? Maybe the four of us, plus Frank’s team can actually manage to take them down.”  
Gerard grimaces. “Hopefully. Let’s just keep this quiet, search for any more information. I guess we try to take down the Organization. If not—”  
“If not, what will you do?”  
“Let’s not think about that,” Gerard says grimly. “Because either I have to kill an innocent person, or we all die.”

There are several knocks on the door, two long and one short just before Frank can respond.   
Frank grins. “Do it. I’ll let them in.”

The slight drizzle has turned into a downpour now, the steady drum of raindrops hitting the windows as Gerard walks toward the door.   
“Hey dumbasses,” April’s familiar voice sounds as she walks into the apartment, dropping her raincoat on the ground. “Wow, it’s messy.”  
“And sorry about the mess, it’s not usually like this. We had to look for bugs and cameras.”  
“Hi,” Mouse steps into the room.

“You came,” Frank exclaims, hugging him.   
Gerard smiles at the two of them. “Thank you.”  
“Is it just us?” Dorian asks, glancing at Ray and Mikey. 

“Everyone, this is Ray and my brother, Mikey,” Gerard introduces. “Ray and Mikey, this is April and Dorian. And yes, I trust them with my life.”  
April picks up an upturned chair, sitting down on it. “So,” she says. “We risked everything getting out here. What now, boss?”

*

“So basically, you’re saying that it’s impossible,” Frank surmises.  
April shrugs. “I don’t know.” She gestures around the room. “I think we’re a pretty capable bunch.”  
“Capable of doing the impossible?” Mikey asks.   
“Definitely,” April grins.   
“How do we even take down the Organization,” Mouse asks. “If their entire point is staying secret and being impossible to track down?”  
“We find who the leader is,” Gerard says. “Reveal them, and it should be all over.”  
“I guess warn the President,” April sighs. “I hate to think what this means if we fail to take them down though.”  
“It means we all die,” Gerard says grimly. “But I have a feeling we will either way. It’s just the question of if we can take the Organization with us or the president dies.”  
“Is there anything else in the Archive room?” Mouse asks. “In who the leader is?”  
April sighs. “Probably, but in some code that we don’t understand or something unintelligible.”  
“It’s worth a shot, right?” Mikey asks.   
April nods. “I guess Mouse and I can head back to the Barracks and see. We can just tell them we met with Frankie and Gerard and saw that they needed some more research or some shit. I don’t know, I’ll make something up.”  
“What about the Defender’s files?” Mouse asks. “Do you think we could see those?”  
“Maybe,” Ray says.  
“Yes,” April responds at the same time. “What?” she asks when she sees the three of them looking at her. “They’re in the Archive room.”  
Gerard stares at her. “You have access to the Defender’s files too?”  
April shrugs. “How do you think we managed to stay a step ahead of you all the time? As soon as your forces were doubled, we knew.”  
Mikey sighs. “Wow, okay then. That’s why our job was so difficult.”  
April blows him a kiss. “Your welcome,” she responds.

Everyone jumps at the knock at the door. Gerard’s hand instinctively travels to his gun, April rising out of her seat.   
“I thought we were all here,” Mouse whispers.   
“We are,” Gerard answers. He moves toward the door. “Get ready.” Gerard takes a deep breath, yanking open the door, his gun trained on the figure standing there. 

It’s not at all what he expected. He doesn’t know exactly what he was thinking, but it wasn’t this. Maybe he thought it would be a neighbor or one of the Defenders. Maybe pissed off Agent Bryar. Maybe Brian or Pete or Patrick. Nowhere near the top of his list was the small figure who stands drenched in his doorway.   
“Tommy?” Gerard exclaims. He’s soaking wet and shivering, probably due to the torrential downpour outside, his dark hair plastered to the sides of his face.   
“Hi,” Tommy says. “Can I come in?”

*

“I’m sorry,” Tommy says. “I’m really sorry.” He’s seated on Gerard’s couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a cup of warm tea in his hands.   
“It’s okay,” Gerard soothes. “You’re okay now.”  
“Why are you here?” April asks.   
“I overheard you talking,” Tommy confesses. “When I went with Bert one time. Is it true? Is the Organization hurting the Care Homes?”  
Frank nods. “Yes, it is.”  
Tommy glances up at him, guilt flashing across his face. “I shot you,” Tommy says. “I’m so sorry.”  
“It’s fine,” Frank answers. “I get it. I was just like you. I don’t blame you.”  
Tommy shakes his head. “I wanted a family,” he confesses. “I want to be loved, to be cared for. Bert promised that, the others promised that the Organization would be my family. My mom, she abandoned me a long time ago. I thought that the Organization would be my new family. They said that they could find my mom for me and they would be my family. They lied, didn’t they?”  
Frank nods. “In some ways, yes. My team is like my family, yes. I love them. But it’s not like what you want.”  
“I want to help,” Tommy says. “I really want to help take down the Organization. All I ever wanted was to help kids like me.”  
Mouse nods sympathetically. “Me too, kid,” he says. “  
“We can take them down, right?” Tommy asks.   
Gerard nods. “I think we can. But we need to do it fast. Do you know anything about the Organization?”  
Tommy shrugs. “Probably not that much.”  
“How did you sneak out?” April asks.   
“Bert trusted me. He let me walk around. Right after you guys left, I snuck onto your truck when it pulled out.”  
“Wait,” Ray stands up. “Does that mean you know where the Organization is?”  
Tommy shakes his head. “I didn’t see anything,” he says. “I’m sorry.”  
“You realize that the Organization will be after you now, right?” April asks softly.  
Tommy nods. “I know,” he says. “But to do the right thing, right?”

Gerard watches him, feeling a pang of sympathy prick in his heart. Tommy is thirteen, for heaven’s sake. He shouldn’t be forced to decide what’s right and what’s wrong, be forced to choose a side and risk his own life. He should be doing what thirteen year olds normally do, get into trouble, fight their parents, argue. Then again, he supposes that Tommy never had a normal bringing up either. 

April stands up. “We should go,” she says, beckoning to Mouse. “We need to get back to the Barracks.”  
“Be careful,” Frank stands up to hug them. “Thanks.”  
“Us too,” Ray says. “We have to get to the office. We’ll keep Agent Bryar away and from asking too many questions.”  
“Will you be okay?” Mikey asks Gerard quietly. “I don’t want to leave you alone here.”  
“I’m not alone, I have Frank with me,” Gerard reassures him.   
Mikey glares at him. “Last time I left, you got kidnapped.”  
Gerard shrugs. “What can I do about it? Go,” he elbows Mikey. “I’ll try not to get anyone killed.”

Tommy insists on sleeping in the living room, so Gerard lets him, setting up blankets and pillows on the couch.   
“You know, we can go back to the Care Home,” Gerard offers. “Not stay there, obviously, because that’s the first place they will look for you. But just to visit. I know Julia and Sarah are worried about you.”  
Tommy sighs, drawing his knees to his chest. “I don’t think so,” he says. “I just…I don’t think I can face them right now.”  
Frank nods sympathetically. “It’s okay. Whenever you’re ready. I didn’t go back until recently, six years afterward.”   
“Do you want to call them at least?” Gerard asks. “Or do you want one of us to call them?”  
Tommy hesitates. “Sure,” he says. “I guess so.”

Gerard digs his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Tommy, who takes it tentatively as if he was just handed a bomb. He punches in a few numbers, letting it ring out. It is late, Gerard doubts that anyone will pick up. They should have waited until morning. He’s about to suggest it to Tommy, but there’s the click of a receiver.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voices sounds through the speaker. But Tommy seems to know who it is, since his posture sags.   
“Claire,” he says. “Hi. Is Sarah there?”  
“Who is it?  
Tommy hesitates, glancing up at Gerard.   
“It’s Agent Way,” Gerard says. “I need to speak with Sarah.”

There’s the sound of muffled yells and footsteps before someone picks up the phone.  
“Gerard?” It’s Julia. “Sarah’s asleep. What do you need?”  
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Gerard asks. He glances over at Tommy, a silent question in his eyes.   
“Nah,” Julia replies. “Is it urgent? I can get her up.”  
“No,” Tommy says, his voice breaking slightly. “Jules, it’s me.”

Silence follows, for so long that Gerard almost thinks that Julia has hung up.   
“Fuck you,” she says. Gerard doesn’t even want to know where she learned that word. Her tone shifts immediately, her words tumbling after one another. “Are you safe? Tommy, are you okay? I’ve been so worried, Sarah’s been so worried. I knew that Gerard would find you, he’s awesome, isn’t he? Speaking of Gerard, did you find Frank? But Tommy what happened? Why did you leave? Are you coming back?”  
“Okay, one at a time,” Gerard laughs. “Yes, we did find Frank, he’s here with us. Tommy’s alright and safe, for now.”  
“I’m sorry, Jules,” Tommy says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
“Well, you did,” Julia answers. “Friends aren’t supposed to leave each other.”  
Tommy squeezes his eyes shut. “I know,” he mutters. “It’s just that—Bert told me that they knew my mother. They said that they could be my new family. They wanted me.”  
Julia goes quiet. “I’m sorry too,” she says. “I wish we could have been enough. I understand though.”  
“Jules, you are the best friend anyone could ask for,” Tommy winces. “It’s just that—”  
“Family,” Julia supplies. “I get it, Tommy. I do. I would give anything to see my family again or to have a family back. I know that the Care Home isn’t an actually family and we didn’t chose it. But it has to be enough.”  
“I had to,” Tommy pleads. “They gave me the chance to find my mom. They said that they wanted me, that they needed me. It felt good, you know? To actually be wanted. To know that someone wanted me for who I was, not because I was stuck with them. I’ve wanted to know for my entire life why I wasn’t good enough, why my mom didn’t want me. She didn’t even leave me a last name.”  
“I know,” Julia says quietly. “I get it. There was a time when I almost joined too. I get it.”  
“I’m sorry,” Tommy answers. “I am really sorry, Jules.”  
“Will you call again? Or visit?”  
Tommy glances over at Gerard, who shakes his head.   
“Sorry, Julia,” Gerard answers. “But I don’t think we can right now at least. The Organization is going to be looking for Tommy. Speaking of which, can you keep this quiet? And not tell anyone? I don’t know who is in contact with the Organization or if they’ve done anything to the place.”  
“My lips are sealed,” Julia replies. “You can count on me.”  
“Thank you,” Gerard tells her. “Really.”  
“Come home,” Julia says. “Tommy, please. I miss you. We all do. When you can, come home.”  
Tommy sighs. “I will,” he promises as Julia hangs up. 

Tommy wraps his arms around himself after handing the phone back.   
“Will you be okay?” Gerard asks. “Do you need anything else?”  
Tommy shakes his head. “I’m good, thank you. For everything.”

*

No updates come through for the next few days. Gerard can’t help but feel more and more anxious as the minutes tick by. It’s February 11th. Four days left. He tries to occupy his time with Frank and Tommy, the three of them keeping a low profile, mainly staying inside Gerard’s apartment. He clears out his cluttered guest room, letting Tommy take it over. Ray and Mikey come to visit them every so often, bring groceries to replenish the spoiled food in Gerard’s fridge, not like there was much, to begin with. Gerard tries to enjoy his time, knowing that it could be the last few days that he is free, but it’s hard to, even as he watches Tommy and Frank play chess, then checkers, then solitaire, then a strange combination of the three that makes no sense, but seems at least somewhat fun. 

The instructions for the job come that day, adding to Gerard’s increasing anxiety. There’s not much, just an invitation to a Presidential event for him and one other on the date, February 15th, along with the blueprints of the building and location. The place is impenetrable, bulletproof windows, guards patrolling around. It is clear that the only way is in through the crowd itself, hence the tickets. He gives it all to Mikey and Ray for them to do their work with it. 

That night, Gerard stares up at the ceiling, watching as the light shifts overhead as a car drives by, the headlights sweeping through the room. He can hear the steady patter of rain on the roof, the downpour that has lasted for most of the week. Frank rests against his shoulder, his eyes closed.  
“Do you think we can do this?” Frank murmurs, breaking the silence.  
Gerard sighs. “I hope so. Nothing from April or Mouse yet?”  
“Nothing,” Frank sighs. “And from Mikey and Ray?”  
“No trouble there,” Gerard says.   
Frank rolls over, pulling Gerard with him. Gerard smiles as he does so, kissing the top of Frank’s head, his arms wrapped loosely around Frank’s waist.   
“I love you,” Frank whispers.   
“I love you too,” Gerard answers. “I always will.”  
“Me too,” Frank moves closer to him. “Now let me sleep.”

At some ungodly hour before dawn, his phone rings. Gerard rolls over, blinking groggily in the darkness. He untangles himself from Frank and the warm blankets, trying not to disturb the form of Frank sleeping against his chest. Gerard squints in the bright light of the phone, sitting up as the caller ID on his phone flashes _unknown number_. 

“Hello?” Gerard’s voice is scratchy as he answers. “Who is this?”  
“Oh, you’re actually awake. Thank god.”  
“April?”  
“Who else would call you, dumbass?”  
Gerard sighs. “What is it? You couldn’t wait until morning.”

“What’s going on?” Frank’s sleepy voice sounds from behind him. “Gee? What is it?”  
“It’s April, go back to sleep,” Gerard says.   
“Hi, Frankie,” April responds. “But Gerard, uh, we found something.”  
“What is it?”  
“It’s going to be shocking,” April warns. “Um, but I thought that you really needed to know. Um, your brother is asleep now, right?”  
“Probably,” Gerard frowns. “Why?”  
“Tell him tomorrow then.”  
“What is it?” Gerard is wide awake now, more alert than ever. “April, cut to the chase, what is it?”  
“It’s your parents,” April responds. “They weren’t killed by the Organization. They were killed by the Defenders.”


	12. A Beautiful Garden of Death

It feels like he’s been punched in the stomach, the world turning on its head around him. Gerard has to pinch himself to make sure that he’s actually awake. Yes, he is actually sitting in his dark bedroom, Frank’s hand on his shoulder, listening to April tell him that his entire life and motivations have been a lie. 

“What do you mean?” Gerard asks, shocked. “That makes no sense.”  
“It’s true,” April says.   
“How?”  
April sighs. “We found the documents,” she says. “Remember the white rose you found in the folder? It’s a kill order.”  
“She loves her red roses,” Gerard mutters. “The Scarlet Queen loves her red roses. April, you told me that the Queen loves her red roses and hates the white ones.”  
“Red for recruitment,” Frank chimes in. “White for death.”  
“The President,” Gerard remembers. “When we were taken out of the Barracks, I overheard a conversation. Someone asked if it was another rose, and another person responded that it was white. But how does this mean that my parents were killed by the Defenders?”  
“Because we have access to the Defender’s files too,” April says. “Remember? I searched through them. I found it. On May 11th for Donald and Donna Way. There’s nothing else in the folder except for a white rose. Obviously, it was to hide the fact that the Defenders were going to kill their own. No one except for the highest up in the Organization would have understood.”  
“Could it be a mistake?”  
“Gerard, you know as well as us that there are no mistakes.”  
Gerard sighs. “I know, I can’t believe it.”  
“I guess we all believed lies,” April answers. “I found out the Organization was all a sham. You found out that the Defenders are too.   
“It’s what you asked me,” Gerard turns to Frank. “Who are we working for?”  
“It seems like the same people,” April says. “If you follow the chain far enough up. Or else why is there the Organization’s symbol in a highly classified Defender’s file?”  
Frank sighs. “I guess so. So no one is trustworthy.”  
“We ruled that out already,” April laughs.   
“I have to tell Mikey,” Gerard sighs. “Oh, god. I have to tell him that.”   
“How did you find that out?” Frank asks. “The Defender files aren’t in the Archive room. They’re higher clearance.”  
“We’re in the main office,” April responds.   
Frank leans forward. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get caught.”  
“We have to,” April shoots back. “The Archive room doesn’t have the highly classified stuff. All of this is top secret. If we want to take them down, we need to know everything. It’s worth the risk.”  
Frank shakes his head. “Get out of there.”  
April sighs. “I know the risk, we both do,” she says. “It’s this or all of our lives or the President and the whole Principality. You know that taking out the President will send us into chaos. That’s all whoever is behind all of this needs to gain control. And I don’t want to see what happens when a scheming person, who is responsible for the deaths of important people, is put in charge.”  
“April—”  
“It’s the only way, Frankie,” April responds. “I need to find out who the leader is, we all need to. You know as well as I do that the President isn’t the final goal. No, it’s always power. Whoever it is wants to be President. No, they—oh, that’s brilliant.”  
“What?”  
“Think about who the targets are. We have to find out who was working with them at the time. Then we might be able to find who it is. Are there any people that have worked with or near or against all of the targets?”   
“I’ll have to check,” Gerard says. “Just, April, please be careful. Get out of there, we have a lead.”  
April sighs. “Not until I find a name,” she says as she hangs up. 

*

“What do you mean?” Mikey asks, rubbing his eyes. He’s standing outside his apartment door, wearing pajamas and looking extremely annoyed.  
“Is there anyone with you?” Gerard asks for the third time.   
Mikey blinks. “Yeah, Pete’s here, why?”   
“Is he asleep?”  
“He was. He probably is now. What’s going on? Spill. Why are you here at four in the morning?”  
“It’s about our parents.” Gerard lowers his voice. “April found something.”

Mikey stands up straighter. “What do you mean?” he asks, suddenly wide awake.  
Gerard sighs. “I wanted to wait until morning to tell you. But you needed to know.”  
“What?”  
“It’s about our parents.”  
“What about them?” Mikey asks.   
“They weren’t killed by the Organization. They were killed by the Defenders.”

“I’m dreaming,” Mikey says after a minute of staring. “I am dreaming right now. In a moment, I’m going to wake up and say what a weird dream this was.”  
Gerard sighs. “Believe me, I thought that too.”  
“What are you talking about? How? How did you figure it out? How is that possible?”  
“April got the files,” Gerard says.   
“They couldn’t have been faked?”  
Gerard sighs. “That’s why I came here. I want to confirm it.”  
“Why would I have anything?”  
“We need our parents’ stuff,” Gerard says slowly. “Diaries, notebooks, anything.”  
Mikey smiles. “Oh, now I know.”  
“Let’s go,” Gerard turns, Mikey following him out of the apartment building. 

The streets are cold as the two of them make their way on foot toward the Defender’s building. It would be dark, if not for the bright fluorescent lights illuminating the way. Strange to think that under such a beautiful facade, darkness lurked, kept away by the colors. 

They reach the building in no time, but instead of heading toward the main entrance, Gerard slips into the alleyway to the side. Mikey follows him with a confused glance, but he doesn’t ask as Gerard heads toward the back.

“Keep watch,” Gerard whispers.   
“I want to go in too,” Mikey protests.   
Gerard shrugs. “I’ll be quick. I’m already in trouble, no need for you to get caught. Besides, I am, or I was lead Defender. I can probably use that as an excuse.”  
Mikey sighs. “Fine. Be fast, it’s cold out.”

The handle of the door is cold against his hand as he inserts the tip of a knife blade into the lock, twisting it, hearing a faint click. Gerard pulls the door open, with one last glance at Mikey and the brightly lit night, before he slips into the darkness. 

His footsteps echo through the hallway as he walks, his right hand pressed against the wall, feeling along the wall for a door or something. Gerard risks turning on his phone, the faint light illuminating the corridors, bouncing off the walls. 

His hand falls into empty space. Gerard stumbles forward, shining the light from his phone into the darkness. He can see the faint outline of cabinets and shelves, the gleam of metal from the light. 

Gerard glances around as he slips in, his gloved fingers brushing against the edges. He’s never been down here, in all the years that he’s worked for the Defenders. Actually, he’s never bothered to ask, never bothered to wonder why he wasn’t allowed to see any of his parents’ stuff after they passed. He never bothered to question who he might have been working for. He had just taken their word as the truth. 

The light from his flashlight lands on a label peeking out from a cabinet. Gerard turns it over, his heart hammering in his chest as he sees the name. Donna and Donald Way. 

With shaking hands, Gerard slides the knife blade into the side of the cabinet, hearing a faint _shing_ as the metal slides against metal and the cabinet pops open. 

He almost expects to see a severed head in there, though he knows it’s just papers. Papers and papers and papers, notebooks piled and crammed into the small space. On top, there’s a packet of paper. _Classified_ it reads in bold red letters. 

Gerard picks up the packet, leafing through it. One glance is enough for bile to rise in his throat. His parents’ pictures are there, smiling as they did in life. Below, there’s a small note. _Terminate._

April was right. Gerard stumbles back, leaning against the cabinet, taking a deep breath as the world seems to spin around him, the floor seemingly dropping out from under him. The Defenders were the reason his parents are dead.

His parents deserved more than that. They deserved more than him. All his life, he had blindly followed orders, joining the Defenders, the very people who had murdered his parents, in hope of revenge. All that he was doing was furthering their goals. And even more than that, the countless people who had died at his hands, people who might have been innocent, might have been like Frank. People that the Defenders wanted dead, people that Gerard killed, doing job after job for them without even wondering who or why. Gerard shudders at the thought of the fact that if he hadn’t stopped to think, Frank would just be another name on the list, another victim of his.

Gerard hears the sound of footsteps in the distance, startling him out of his thoughts. With a glance around, he grabs as many notebooks as he can find, stuffing them into his coat as he shuts the cabinet as quietly as he can. Then, he slips out the back, through the darkness, blood pounding in his ears until he bursts out into the alleyway.

“Did you find something?” Mikey asks, pushing away from the wall. “I called Ray, he’s going to meet us—Gerard—you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You okay?”  
Gerard shrugs. “Let’s just get home,” he mutters. “We have a lot to do.” 

The next day, the four of them scan the notebooks and files, the day after that, they do the same, to no avail. There’s no secret code, no hidden message for him to discern, no reason why they would have been murdered. 

“Any news from April or Dorian?” Mikey asks.   
Frank shakes his head. “None.” He seems concerned. “They’re probably okay, though. I hope they get back soon.”  
Gerard sighs, glancing over at the clock. He has around twenty four hours to complete his task and they’re getting no where.   
“It’s useless,” Gerard throws his notebook aside.   
“Hey,” Ray glances up. “Don’t say that. We still have twenty four hours.”  
“No, don’t you see?” Gerard snaps. “It’s useless. I’m going to have to kill him.”  
Frank stands up, moving toward him. “Gerard,” he says.   
“It’s fine,” Gerard throws his hands up in the air. “It’s okay. It’s my purpose, right? I joined the Defenders, it’s the reason that I joined. To do what they wanted, to kill anyone they wanted me to. It isn’t any different coming from the Organization.”  
Frank watches him sympathetically. “I know,” he says softly. “Gerard, I know how it feels. I thought I was doing something good for the Organization.”  
“Gerard,” Mikey starts.  
“They murdered my parents,” Gerard yells. “And I’ve been helping them all along. Oh, god, they lied to me and I didn’t even try to check. I’ve been helping their murderers, thinking I’ve been getting justice. All along, it was, all along—”  
“Gerard,” Mikey stands. “Take a deep breath. They don’t blame you, no one blames you for that. It’s their fault. They’re the ones that lied to us about our parents.”  
Gerard sighs. “I still killed all those people. Mikey, I justified it to myself. I thought I was doing it because our parents wanted me to do it. I thought I was helping catch their killers. In reality, I’ve been misled all along. I was just helping their killers get away.”  
“Me too,” Mikey says. “I know exactly how it feels.”  
“You didn’t kill them,” Gerard snaps. “And you’re not the one who has to kill the President in thirty hours.”  
Mikey opens, then closes his mouth, his face pinched. “I helped,” he says quietly. “I don’t know if you forgot, Gerard, but they were our parents. I’ve been helping the Defenders too, if you forgot.”   
Gerard instantly feels guilty. “Mikey, wait—I’m sorry, I—” but Mikey is already gathering his coat, storming out of the room.   
Ray stands up. “I’ll talk to him,” he says to Frank. “Can you—” Gerard can tell he angled his head at him as Frank nods. 

“I didn’t mean that,” Gerard says for the fourth time. He doesn’t exactly remember coming into his bedroom, but somehow Frank got him sitting on the bed.   
“I know,” Frank soothes, brushing Gerard’s hair down. “I know. I know you’re upset.”  
“How do you deal with it?” Gerard asks. “Knowing everything you’ve worked for is a lie. Knowing that your entire existence is a lie.”  
Frank shrugs. “There isn’t anything to do but accept it. I’ve worked for a lie, but at least I can try to change things now. You can too. You can make this right by taking down whoever is behind this all.   
Gerard sighs, pulling him closer. “What would I do without you?” he whispers into the front of Frank’s shirt.   
“I don’t know,” Frank murmurs, tangling his fingers in Gerard’s hair. “What would you?”

Gerard grins, pulling him down. Frank lets out a surprised yelp as he lands on top of Gerard, Gerard rolling the two of them over.   
“Let’s hope I never have to find out,” Gerard whispers. 

Frank kisses him, his arms looping over Gerard’s shoulders. His lips are soft against Gerard’s, the kiss tender and sweet, leaving Gerard wanting more. He can feel Frank’s heart beating against his skin as he trails his lips down the warm skin of Frank’s throat, Frank tilting his head back, gasping quietly. 

“We could die tomorrow,” Gerard whispers.   
“No, none of that,” Frank answers. “No what ifs. We are going to figure this out. We are going to save the President and take down the Organization and the Defenders.”  
“I hope so,” Gerard sighs.   
“I _know_ so,” Frank responds. “Now, shut up and fucking kiss me.”  
Gerard is only too happy to comply. 

His hands roam down Frank’s sides, pulling off Frank’s shirt before his own, the cold air brushing against his skin. Gerard’s fingers fumble with Frank’s jeans, pushing them lower as he kisses the soft skin there. Frank moves under him, his fingers tightening in Gerard’s hair. 

“Is this okay?” Gerard asks, pulling back. “Do you want to? If you’re not ready, as always, it’s fine. ”  
Frank nods, blushing in the darkness. “Yes,” he whispers. “Please. I’ve wanted you since we first met.”  
“Tell me when to stop, okay?” Gerard murmurs, kissing him again. Frank nods, pulling him down, his legs wrapping around Gerard’s waist.  
“Wow,” Frank gasps as Gerard noses down the side of Frank’s neck. “You’re—you’re good at this.”   
Gerard can’t help but grin as he leaves marks down the pale skin. “I want you,” Gerard whispers.  
“I need you,” Frank responds, his breathing growing heavier as Gerard kisses him again and again, moving down his jaw, kissing the hollow of his throat, Frank letting out soft moans as he does so. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Frank confesses after a moment.   
“What do you mean?” Gerard murmurs.  
“I mean like having someone want to sleep with me because they love me. Not just for getting off,” Frank explains, blushing. “You know, the first time you said that you loved me, it was the first time anyone ever said it back to me.”  
Gerard props himself up, gazing down at Frank in the darkness. Frank is practically glowing in the faint light, his skin awash with silver. Gerard brushes his fingers over Frank’s face, marveling at him in the darkness. “Well, I love you,” Gerard murmurs, leaving soft kisses across Frank’s face. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll say it a million times and more until you get sick of me saying it.” 

Through the sound of half formed words and soft exhales, Gerard takes him. Frank pants out his name, his fingers tangling in Gerard’s hair, his eyes half closed. Gerard can’t believe how lucky he was to be able to get Frank. 

Ever since he first laid eyes on Frank, in that bar where he was supposed to kill him, never could he have imagined falling for him like this. Not even as he decided to spare him and take him back, did Gerard imagine that this could happen. He had acted in his impulse, kissing Frank in his apartment without even realizing what he was doing and that had led to this. Through losing Frank and finding him again, Gerard realized how much he truly loves Frank. 

With the two of them tangled together, the sound of soft breathing, Gerard pulls Frank closer, stroking his hair gently.   
“I love you,” Gerard murmurs softly in his ear. “Whatever happens, I will always love you.”   
“I love you too,” Frank whispers, his breath warm against Gerard’s cheek as he entwines his fingers with Gerard’s. They remain that way until they slowly drift off into sleep. 

*

In his dream, he’s running. Through the fields, dodging around stray branches that come out of nowhere, the grass swishing around him as he runs. He doesn’t know if he’s running toward someone or running from someone. Maybe it’s both. He just knows that he has to keep moving. 

The grass parts before him, moving as if the wind blows it, though Gerard can’t feel any wind against his skin. He can hear the faint sound of sticks cracking, but they might be gunshots. 

“Gerard?” He hears the voice of his mother, skidding to a halt.   
“Mom?” he calls out quietly. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’ve been helping the Defenders all along. And now Mikey’s mad at me and I feel so bad.”  
His mother materializes before him, looking as she did in life, his father beside her. “Gerard,” she says gently, reaching out to him, but her hand dissipates before it can touch his face. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. Don’t dwell on the past, use it as motivation instead. Make it right instead.”  
“For yourself and for others,” his father adds.   
“Now go,” his mother says. “And beware. The two of them aren’t who you think they are.”  
“Who?” Gerard asks.   
_“A son and parent will soon rule the earth,” his parents answer in unison.  
Abandoned from a young age, he has strayed.   
To please his parent and to prove his worth.  
You and your friends, the son will soon betray.  
Though dear, don’t fret for not all hope is lost.  
Love will save you, but first you’ll pay the cost.”_  
“What does that mean?” Gerard asks. “What cost? What son? What mother?”   
“You do know that we’re not actually here, right?” his mother responds. “This is your dream, Gerard. You know the answer. Or you will soon at least.”  
Gerard blinks. “But—” His parents are gone, vanished without a trace, leaving the empty field. 

Gerard stumbles back, then falls as the ground opens beneath him. He lands, gazing up at the strangely lavender colored sky before picking himself up, stopping in amazement at the sight before him. 

A red caterpillar sits on a blue mushroom before him. It raises an eyebrow at him before blowing out a long breath of green smoke. “I think you’re lost,” it says.  
“I’m always lost,” Gerard replies.  
The caterpillar chuckles. “Well, it will clear up soon enough,” it replies as Gerard falls into the darkness. 

*

The next morning, Gerard wakes Frank up with a kiss, then another one, brushing the dark fallen hair from Frank’s face.  
“Good morning,” Gerard whispers.  
“Hey,” Frank opens an eye, grinning at him.  
“Sleep well?” Gerard asks, giving him another kiss.   
“Better than I have in a long time.”  
He traces his thumb over Frank’s cheekbone lightly. “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” Frank whispers as Gerard pulls him closer, burying his face in Frank’s soft hair, breathing in his scent.   
“We should probably get up,” Frank sighs.   
Gerard groans. “I guess so,” he says. “I don’t want to leave though.”  
“Me either,” Frank twists around, kissing him lightly before sitting up. “Get up, Sleeping Beauty.”  
“Shut up,” Gerard laughs at that. “What, you have to kiss me before I get up.”  
Frank rolls his eyes, coming over to the other side of the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. “You’re annoying.”  
“You love me,” Gerard grins, pulling Frank back down. Frank lets out an annoyed sound, tossing a pillow at him. “Kiss me, then I’ll get up.”  
“No, I hate you,” Frank laughs. “Fine.” He cups Gerard’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Get up. Before Mikey and Ray get here.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes before deigning to search from his clothes on the floor. 

About an hour later, there’s a knock at the door. Gerard opens it, revealing Mikey and Ray standing there.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard apologizes. “I shouldn’t have—I’m really sorry.”  
Mikey nods. “I know,” he says.   
“Can we come in?” Ray asks.   
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Gerard moves away. 

“Hey,” Frank comes out of the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hands. Gerard takes it from him as Frank swats at him half heartedly, since Gerard has done the same thing every day. “Tommy’s asleep, so be quiet.” He points at the closed guest room bedroom door.   
“Eight hours left,” Ray sighs. “And still nothing?”  
Gerard shrugs. “I’ve basically given up at this point. I guess I just gotta go, shoot the guy, and then it will be over. You guys shouldn’t come. It’ll only get you into trouble.”  
“We’re not letting you sacrifice yourself,” Frank says sharply. “We still have eight hours, seven before we even have to leave. I’m going to work on the notebooks some more, Ray, if you want to help me. We still have a chance.”  
Ray accepts the offer, the two of them disappearing into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard says again. “Mikey, I’m really sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” Mikey answers. “We were both upset.”  
“I miss them,” Gerard admits. “I miss the way that Dad would always fuss over the radio and Mom would scream if her tulips were trampled. I miss them so much.”  
“Me too,” Mikey sighs. “I wish they were here again. But enough with wasting time. Should we help?”  
Gerard nods, smiling at that. “Thanks,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without all of you.” He’s reminded of the strange dream he had, of their parents, but he doesn’t mention it, knowing that Mikey will just discount it to Gerard’s strange subconsciousness and the stress. That’s probably all it is anyway. 

The task still seems fruitless, as they work on it. Gerard is painfully aware of how the seconds are ticking by as he scans through the never ending pile of words, the familiar handwriting of his mother and father, the sight of which sends pricks of pain through his heart. He drops his head into his hands, closing his eyes. In three hours, he’s about to become a murderer, or at least more of one than he already is. A murderer in the public eye, an assassin. To benefit the people who killed his parents. 

“Oh my god!” Gerard jumps at the sound of a loud cheer.   
“I found it,” Ray says. “I found who the leader of the Organization is.”

*

“Carabosse Hart?” Mikey shakes his head. “ _Vice President Hart?_ I can’t believe it.”  
“It’s written here,” Ray holds up the notebook. “Gee, Mikes, I’m sorry. I think your parents figured it out. That’s why the Defenders killed them.”  
“Is she also the leader of the Defenders?” Frank asks. “I mean, I assumed so.”  
Mikey nods. “Yes,” he says simply. “That’s what Brian told me.”  
“We should have seen it coming,” Gerard fumes. “I mean, who has been against the Care Home reforms from the beginning? Remember my trial?”  
“It makes so much sense,” Frank mutters.   
“What?”  
“Hart. Of course the Defenders and the Organization were linked by her. Remember when Gerard first captured me?”  
Mikey nods. “Yeah?” he asks. “What about it?”  
“Usually we’re only let out for a few days and given our assignment ahead of time. But that time, it was different. They sent me out and told me to wait. Because they never expected me to come back.”  
“Hart was a Senator when Garcia was president. After Frank, well, after Garcia was killed three months ago, Williams was moved to president. I think Hart assumed that he would do as she wanted, because they had worked closely before. They’re friends,” Ray explains.  
“Apparently not anymore,” Gerard mutters.  
“Yeah, I guess he didn’t follow what she wanted. Because now Williams is on the death list. If he dies, then Hart becomes president and she can do as she pleases,” Frank says.   
“What about the Care Homes? Why did she hate them so much?” Mikey wonders.   
“I don’t think it was hate, just necessity,” Ray answers. “Right? The Organization needs people to do its work. Hart needs the Organization to stay in power. All of you came from Care Homes. It just makes sense that she would want to keep them around.”  
“Why didn’t Hart just take power then?”  
“She hasn’t been elected,” Ray muses. “She tried, remember? A few times, but she was never elected. Guess she resorted to other methods.”  
“And she still wants the general population on her side,” Frank puts in. “She doesn’t want to be a tyrant, that’s why she created the Organization. Keep it hidden.”  
“Kill all her enemies from afar. Smart,” Gerard sighs.   
“Well now what do we do?”  
“Do we have any proof?”  
“I mean, the notebooks,” Ray says. “But nothing more concrete than that. Hart has so much power, she’s vice president, for heaven’s sake. I’d bet that it’s not just her, that she has a bunch of other people in the government on her side.”  
“Good point,” Gerard sighs.   
“Wait,” Mikey says. “You have to kill him tomorrow, right? The Presidential event.”  
“What kind of event?”  
“A conference about the Care Homes and reforms,” Ray informs them. “It’s a pretty big decision. I guess they had to work Hart’s connections to get you invited. But why there? Why not in the secret of William’s house?”  
“A conference?” Frank asks.   
Ray nods. “Yeah, why?”  
“A conference means cameras,” Frank says. “She means to make it a public event. Why shouldn’t she? She’s vice president. If the president, dies, she becomes president.”  
“Oh no,” Mikey sighs. “And it will seem all like an accident. The Organization having used Gerard to attack her and the president. She gets rid of the president, and gets rid of Gerard and anyone who goes with him in the process.”  
“Great vote of confidence,” Gerard sighs. “And we have three hours, don’t we?”  
“So we tell them the truth,” Mikey puts it, his eyes gleaming. “Give me and Ray the time. I think we can compile the evidence, hack into the projectors and show them all that Hart is behind it all.”  
“It could work,” Gerard mutters. “I’ll probably still have to go in. Knowing the Organization, they’re going to be watching us.”

His phone rings, startling all of them. Gerard searches for it, picking it out of a pile of loose paper.   
“Hello?” he asks.   
He just hears a quiet sob on the other end.   
“Who is this?” Gerard asks. “April? Dorian?”  
“April?” Frank takes the phone from him. “April, are you there? What happened?”  
“It’s Dorian,” April chokes out. “He’s dead.”

*

Frank goes still at the words, his face paling. “What?” he asks.   
“They killed him. I don’t know—” April takes in a shuddering breath. “I think someone saw him and reported him. He was dead this morning when I got back from a meeting with Bert—god, I can’t do this. They set us up, you know. Took Mad and me away to a meeting of nothing, and killed him. They killed Dorian.”  
“April,” Gerard takes the phone back. “April, listen to me. Can you come meet us here?”   
April laughs, the sound ragged and strange. “No,” she says. “I’m going to kill him.”  
“April,” Gerard’s grip tightens on the phone. “Can you come back to us right now? I don’t think you should be alone. Is Mad there?”  
“I’ve always been alone,” April says. “Mad’s devastated, but I don’t think they know why he’s dead. God, death isn’t even scary anymore. I’ve lost almost everyone I care about.”  
“April—”  
“Before I go, there’s something else you need to know,” April says slowly.  
“What?”  
“It’s about Tommy.”  
“What is it?” Dread pools in Gerard’s stomach. He glances toward the closed bedroom door.   
“He’s Vice President Hart’s son.”  
“What?” Gerard’s mouth drops open. “What?”  
“I didn’t connect the dots until now. Hart had a son, said that he died. Right then, Tommy shows up at the Care Home, his mother abandoning him. I called Sarah. She confirmed.”  
“Oh my god,” Gerard mutters.   
“Bert is on his way to the Principality,” April says shortly. “He’s going there to kill the president if you don’t, and then you too. At least he told me that much as he was having Dorian’s throat slit.” She shudders. “You didn’t see it like I did. I can’t get it out of my mind. God, there was so much blood. This has to end. I’m killing Bert.”  
“Wait, Bert?”   
“He’s the leader of the Organization,” April says.   
“No, he’s not,” Frank says. “It’s—”  
“He killed Dorian, Frankie,” April hisses. “I don’t know what feelings you might still have for him, but he killed our friend.”  
“April,” Frank begs. “Bert’s not the leader, I don’t care for him anymore. April, please. We can talk about this, go after them together. Just please—”  
“No,” April responds. “I’m sorry. But I can’t. I’m going to kill him. He killed Dorian, and he will pay for that.”  
“No, wait—”  
“Oh, and don’t come after me, please.”  
“April, wait!” Frank yells, but the line cuts out. 

Frank glances up at him, his eyes wide, glistening with tears. Gerard moves toward him, but Frank turns away, his shoulders shaking as he tries to collect himself.   
“Frankie,” Gerard says quietly. “Talk to me.”  
Frank shakes his head. “What is there to talk about?” he says hoarsely. “He’s dead. People die all the time. We have a job to do.”  
Gerard sighs, conflicted. “Will you be okay?”  
“I have to be. We have to go.”

“We have to go now,” Gerard says, standing up.   
“What?” Ray stands up too. “What happened? Who was that?”  
Gerard glances over at Frank, who is still frozen, his gaze fixed on the ground. He reaches over, taking Frank’s hand in his. “It was April,” Gerard explains. “Dorian is dead. Bert is going to kill the President if I don’t. And April is going to get herself killed. We have to stop them.”  
“Yeah, but how?” Ray asks.   
“Ray, Mikey, you can still get the evidence on the projector, right?” Gerard asks.   
Mikey nods. “Yeah,” he says.   
“Good. Do that then. Frank and I will go ahead as the Organization planned. You two stay here.”  
“I want to come too,” a voice chimes in.   
Gerard turns to see Tommy standing in the doorway.   
“I want to come,” Tommy repeats. “If you’re right and Dorian is dead, then I want to avenge him.”  
“You can stay with Ray and Mikey, if you want,” Gerard offers.  
Tommy shakes his head. “I want to go,” he repeats. “Does Vice President Hart actually lead the Organization?”  
“Yes,” Frank says. “I know, I didn’t believe it either.”  
“Well, then I want to stop her,” Tommy lifts his chin. “You can’t stop me. I’m either coming with you or I’m sneaking out.”  
Gerard glances over at Frank, faintly amused. “Were you like this as a kid?”  
Frank shoots a glare at him. “Maybe.”  
“Well?” Tommy asks.   
Gerard sighs. “Fine. But you have to do exactly what I say. Deal?”  
Tommy nods. “Of course,” he says. 

*

The drive to the building is short, winding through the narrow streets of the city. Gerard keeps himself calm, a smile plastered to his face as the guards wave him in through the large black gate, his gaze traveling to the large guns at their belts. They don’t even question his passengers, waving him as soon as Gerard shows them his lead Defender’s badge. If only they knew what he had to do. 

The building is nice, one of the nicest he’s ever seen. Marble columns line the entrance way, gleaming in the light of the setting sun. People mill around, heading up the grand steps, te me o the ornate, wood carved door. Gerard hesitates, glancing around. 

“So do we just go in?” Tommy asks.   
Gerard shrugs. “I guess so. I’m kind of winging it. Just act as normal as possible.”  
Frank stiffens. “Wait,” he says before he darts into the crowd. Gerard sighs, chasing after him. He sees Frank grab someone’s shoulder, yanking the person backward behind a truck. Gerard’s hand travels to his gun as he rounds the corner, freezing as he sees who the person is. Frank has Mad pinned up against the truck, his gun pressed against their sternum. 

“Why are you here?” Frank asks. “Mad, what?”  
“I followed April out,” Mad explains. “Have you seen her?”  
“Are you with Bert?”  
“Bert’s here?” Mad asks.   
“Don’t play dumb,” Frank hisses.   
“I’m not,” Mad shoots back. “Frankie, you’ve known me forever.”  
“Dorian’s dead,” Frank’s voice breaks, his eyes shining with tears. “He’s dead and I—I couldn’t stop it. It’s all because of me. So if you’re with Bert or the Organization in any way, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through you right now.”  
“It’s my fault,” Mad says. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you guys. If I did, I could have helped. Dorian would still be alive. It’s because of me that he’s dead.”  
Frank lowers the gun, taking a step back. He squeezes his eyes shut, a tear falling down his cheek as he hastily brushes it away.  
“I want to help,” Mad explains. “I’m so sorry. I should have believed you from the beginning, but I—I wanted to believe that the Organization was right. I ignored the truth and now Dorian is dead and I can never forgive myself if I don’t help you now. So please let me. Look, I studied the plans and stuff. I know where everything is. Even if you don’t completely trust me, which I get, I could help you. I just want to help.”  
Frank nods. “Okay,” he whispers. “Thanks, Mad. I’m sorry too.” 

The ground rocks beneath them, a loud roar echoing through the air. Gerard flinches backward, the sound of an alarm wailing in the distance. He glances at Frank before rushing out from behind the truck, seeing people streaming out of the building, yells and screams filling the air. Gerard sees a shape slip into the open door, pushing past the people flooding out. He recognizes the long dark hair and the way she holds herself in an instant. He exchanges a glance with Frank. If April is here, Bert is too. The Organization is here. He is out of time.


	13. The House Of Cards

Smoke billows through the grand rooms as Gerard runs through them, the other three hard on his heels. He pulls off his coat, covering his nose and mouth with it as he feels blindly along the walls. Rubble and dust falls around them as they run, scrambling over collapsed railings and piles of broken marble. 

“Where would the President go if there was an attack?” Gerard shouts.   
“Left,” Mad responds. “Go up the stairs. There should be a fortified room at the very top of the building, next to the landing pad. Bert’s probably sealed them in there.”  
Gerard nods. He coughs, the putrid smell of smoke filling his senses, the piercing wail of the fire alarm screaming from above as he makes his way up the staircase, glass and splinters embedding themselves in his palms. One, two, three, four, five flights of stairs they climb, panting for air through the smoke rising thickly around them. He can hear the sound of police car sirens, but he already knows that the officers will be too late to get to the president before Bert does. 

The stairs end abruptly in a solid white wall. 

“Fuck,” Gerard pants. “Now what?”  
“It has to open,” Mad pushes past him, running their hands along the wall. There’s the sound of a sharp click as they press and the wall swings open slightly, revealing a sliver of light. 

Gerard wastes no time running through, gulping in breaths of the clear air as he stumbles into the main room. 

It would be a beautiful room, stately and grand, a white and red carpet on the ground, a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A desk covered in papers and a gold nameplate spans the back wall, windows letting in golden light. 

But the bodies first catch his eye, Defenders and guards strewn across the floor, scarlet blood pooling on the soft carpet. They lie, blocking the metal doors of the elevator and the glass ones of the escape. Two other senators also lie in their midst, skulls blown apart so Gerard can’t even recognize them. He skids to a halt as he sees movement against the far wall.

The remaining two figures kneel, their backs pressed against the wall. President Williams and Vice President Hart. 

And in the center, Bert stares back at him, a gun in his hand. 

*

For a moment, no one moves. Then Gerard pulls the gun from his waistband, aiming it at Bert. Frank, Mad, and Tommy follow his example. 

“Drop it,” Gerard says, his voice echoing through the terrifyingly quiet room.   
To his surprise, Bert merely laughs. “You want to kill me? To save the President. Well, sorry to break it to you. But even if you shoot me, both of them still die.”   
“To save someone innocent.”  
“He’s far from innocent,” Bert sneers. “Oh, far from it.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Bert laughs again. “You didn’t uphold your end of the deal,” Bert responds. “I knew you weren’t. But no worries. I want to do this anyway.”  
“To kill the President?”  
“Yes,” Bert answers. “Of course.”  
“Why?” Gerard asks. “Why? Is it just because of a job? Are you really going to let the Organization take control of you for everything?”  
Bert’s lip curls. “Not everything is so simple, Gerard,” he answers. “If only it was just a job. But it goes much further than that, doesn't it, Father.”

Gerard stumbles back, shocked. His dream, the strange one that he had discounted to his strange subconsciousness. Maybe it wasn’t after all. What was the thing that his parents had said?

_A son and parent will soon rule the earth.  
Abandoned from a young age, he has strayed. _

The air in the room seems to drop a few degrees as Gerard stares in shock. “President Williams is your father?” he asks.   
Bert laughs. “Oh, yes. Me, the bastard son that he abandoned long ago. He didn’t want a child, especially not a bastard one. He left me and my mother. She died, you know? Heart attack and we lived too far away from the hospitals for them to save her in time, because we couldn’t pay for anything closer. You know why we couldn’t? Because my father was too kind to let me die, so he chose to keep us alive, but barely, hidden away so we could never reveal any of that.”   
“Robert—” President Williams starts. “Please. I—”  
“So I’m going to kill him,” Bert finishes as if his father had never spoken. “I’m going to kill him like I’ve dreamed of doing for so long. This job was just a stroke of luck, you know. The reason I joined the Organization was to kill him.”  
“Why have me kill the President? Why not do it yourself?”  
“I wanted to. But we had you and it was easier. If you took the fall for it, we stayed safe. And if you failed, no problem. Most of all, we needed you to be caught here. They wanted to blame it on you.”  
“Blame it on me?” Gerard asks. “What do you mean?”  
Bert merely grimaces at that.   
“Bert,” Frank steps forward. “Please don’t do this. We can find another way. You don’t have to kill him. Maybe he’s terrible, but he is still your father.”  
Bert’s gaze hardens. “He’s not my father and he will never be. I watched my mother die long ago. I don’t think another parent would be too different. Especially after what he’s done.  
He’s just another stranger, worst than that actually.”  
“We can deal with him in another way,” Frank pleads. “Please.”  
Bert shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But this is personal.” 

Then he fires. 

*

President Williams slumps to the ground, blood pooling around him. Gerard shoots at the exact same time, his bullet hitting Bert in the leg. 

Bert doesn’t seem as triumphant as he would have expect. From where he’s crouched on the ground, he only stares at his father, in a mix of shock and horror. He doesn’t even react when Gerard crosses the room, pocketing Bert’s gun. 

Then Hart begins to laugh. 

Gerard aims his gun at her as she stands up. “We know what you did,” Gerard says. “We know that you’re the leader of the Organization.”  
Hart’s gaze flicks over to Tommy and lands there for a moment. “No,” she says. “I’m not. Williams was.”  
“It doesn't matter, kill her,” Bert says. “Or give me the gun and I will. I don’t care if she’s the leader of shit. She’s a politician. She’s an elite. You can’t trust them. Everything that comes out of their mouths are lies. I—” he’s cut off as the elevator doors open and someone springs out. 

“You killed him!” April yells. Her knife glints in the air as she attacks, a whirlwind of fury and power.   
“I didn’t do anything,” Bert snarls. “I wasn’t the one who killed Dorian. That’s all because of you. If you had just followed orders from the start, you wouldn’t be here! He wouldn’t be dead.”  
“Oh, don’t be all grand on me,” April scoffs. “I’m going to kill you for what you did.”  
“April, wait!” Mad says. “April, please—”  
“Don’t move another step,” Gerard says, aiming his gun at Hart as she steps toward the desk in the corner.   
April has Bert pinned against the wall, the knife against his throat.   
“April, stop!” Mad yells. But April ignores them, pushing Bert backward. Frank moves toward them, but April throws out a hand to warn him as she shoves Bert again. There’s a soft ding as the elevator doors spring open: Bert must have accidentally hit the button. 

He sees his chance, kneeing April in the ribs as he moves toward the elevator.   
“Stop!” Mad yells. “April, Bert, stop it!” They grab April from behind, holding her back as she struggles.   
“Mad, let me go,” she spits. “He killed Dorian.”  
“It wasn’t him!” Frank yells. “Listen for a second, will you? Bert’s not the leader. Hart is.”  
April turns to face him, forgetting about Bert for a moment. “What?” she asks, glancing over at Hart, who stands, inching toward the desk again.   
“Stop moving!” Gerard yells, moving toward Hart.  
Hart puts her hands up. “I’m not doing anything,” she says slowly. 

There’s a ding as Bert stumbles to the panel, the door sliding shut. April curses, breaking free of Mad’s grip. She glares at Hart.  
“Was it you?” she spits. “Did you kill him?”  
She’s about to respond when the television behind her lights up with a message scrolling across in block words. 

_This is the Defenders. Vice President Hart is the leader of the Organization. She is behind all of the attacks. Vice President Hart is the leader of the Organization._

Gerard smiles at that. “You’re done,” he tells Hart. Mikey and Ray did it. “They know now. You won’t get what you want.”  
Hart widens her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says. “You see, Gerard, I had more than one plan.” Before any of them can stop her, she reaches down, putting her hand on a flat piece of metal. 

A high pitched sound echoes through the room. Gerard stumbles backward at the sound, dropping his gun. He can tell the others did the same, falling to their knees. Agony washes through his mind, his vision going white as wave after wave of the piercing noise cuts through every thought in his mind. His knees feel weak, his arms wobbly as he struggles to keep himself upright. Blood drips from his nose, scarlet against the carpet as Hart steps around them, picking up their discarded weapons. Gerard grits his teeth, glancing up, seeing the earplugs in her ears. He lunges at her, or tries to, only to be kicked backward, falling to the carpet.

“Stay down, now that’s a good boy,” she says. Her gaze lands on where Tommy is curled, his hands pressed to his ears. 

Gerard coughs, blood trickling from his nose as she sneers down at him. “You won’t get away with this,” he rasps.  
She smiles. “Oh, I already have.” She presses something else and the sound turns even more piercing. Gerard’s vision goes white as he presses his hands to his ears, the carpet soft against his skin, the harsh metallic smell of blood filling the air. He can hear the sound of screaming, but he can’t tell who it’s coming from as everything fades to black. 

*

Gerard doesn’t as much wake up as surface slowly through a gray fog of agony. Pain prickles through his head as he blinks, coughing weakly as he rolls over. He somehow manages to push himself upright, glancing around the room. 

Hart sits on the opposite side of the room, watching him, faintly amused. She’s on the phone, talking quietly with someone, their guns piled next to her. Mad is stirring beside Gerard, their eyes unfocused as they slowly sit up. April sits up slowly, holding her head as she turns to check on Tommy. All of them look haggard, blood crusted under their ears and nose, eyes unfocused, though Gerard assumes that he doesn’t look any better. Gerard forces himself to move, his muscles screaming in pain as he stands up, limping over to where Frank is, helping him sit up. 

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks, his voice hoarse.   
Frank winces. “I feel like my brain has been put through a blender.” He stands shakily, leaning on Gerard for support. “What the hell was that?”  
“A sonic weapon,” Mad coughs from the other side of the room. “My guess at least. I didn’t even know they existed.”

“They are used in case something like you five came and decided to attack us.”  
Hart crosses the room, offering her hand out to Tommy, who stares at her in confusion before brushing it away, standing on his own. Hart seems to remember herself, stepping back.  
“Thomas, the Defenders are coming,” Hart says. “If we go now, you might make it out in time.”  
“Why do you care?” Tommy wheezes. He glances over at Gerard and Frank. “What about them?”  
“Leave them behind.”  
Tommy stares at her. “I’m not going to leave them. Who are you? Why do you care about me?”  
“Because I am your mother, Tommy,” Hart says nonchalantly.   
Tommy freezes, his eyes going wide. “Is that true?” He glances at the four others.  
Gerard hesitates, then nods. “Yes.”  
“Did you know?” Tommy yells. “All of you knew?” He focuses on Hart again. “Are you telling me the truth?”  
“Tommy,” Hart takes a step toward him. “Yes, I am.”  
“You abandoned me,” Tommy spits.   
“I’m so sorry,” she pleads.   
“Sorry doesn’t even make up for it.”  
“You’ve grown so much,” she says. “Yes, I am your mother. I never meant to abandon you.”  
“She’s lying,” Frank yells. “Tommy, don’t listen to her.”  
“Williams made me. I never wanted to abandon you.”  
“What?”

_A son and parent will soon rule the earth.  
Abandoned from a young age, he has strayed._

It was Tommy and Hart all along. Not Bert and President Willaims. 

Hart takes a step closer and Tommy doesn’t move away. “I want you,” she says. “I want you by my side. I never wanted to abandon you. Williams made me, but now he’s dead and I can have you back.”  
“You lead the Organization,” Frank hisses. “That’s all a lie. You wanted Williams dead.”  
“Tommy, all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe.”  
“What about the Care Homes and the explosions?” Tommy asks. “Are you the leader? Did you hurt those kids?”  
“That wasn’t me. I’m not the leader of the Organization.”  
“That’s a lie,” Gerard says.   
“No, it was Williams. He was corrupting it. It was because of him. We worked together on it. I didn’t agree with what he was deciding, so I knew I had to get rid of him before he could hurt more people. Tommy, I got rid of him so I could save the Care Homes”  
“That’s a lie. You worked against the Care Home reforms, against Rhodes and Preston and Vega” Frank says. “We found your name on the files.”  
“He put my name on the files. That was the agreement. I took the fall.”  
“Gerard’s parents wrote about you. That’s why they were killed. How would we be able to trust you? You literally said you betrayed your friend.”

“Tommy, the Organization doesn’t matter anymore,” Hart says, turning back to Tommy. “I’m the President now. We can make real change. Anything you want.”  
Tommy hesitates. “Anything?” he asks.   
“I’m your mother and I love you,” she says. “And I’m so sorry that I left you all those years ago. If I could go back in time and fix one mistake, I would never have given you up. We can be a family, Tommy, we can make a change.”  
Tommy stares at her for what seems like forever, before he finally nods slowly. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Tommy, don’t do this,” Frank takes a step forward. “You know that she’s lying. Remember what happened last time? You thought you could trust Bert, trust the Organization and look where it lead you.”  
“I can’t trust you either,” Tommy points out. “I thought I could but I can’t. You didn’t tell me? And you all knew? How can I trust you?”  
“Tommy—”  
“She’s my family. She’s my mother.”  
“She’s not your family. Family is supposed to stand by you. Julia and Sarah are your family. The Care Home is your family.”  
“They aren’t,” Tommy says softly. “Family is blood. Family is people who want you.”  
“They want you,” Frank pleads. “They do.”  
“No, they were stuck with me,” Tommy says. “My mom,” he glances up at Hart. “She wants me.” He says the last part tentatively, as if not exactly sure.  
“I want you,” Hart says. “Tommy, I want you by my side. You’re my son.” She holds a gun out to Tommy. He hesitates before he slowly takes it.   
“Kill them,” she says. “Tommy, prove your worth to me. Kill them all.”

_To please his parent and to prove his worth.  
You and your friends, the son will soon betray._

“Tommy, you shouldn’t have to prove yourself to family,” Mad takes a step forward.   
Tommy’s hand shakes. “I have to,” he says. “She’s my mother. She wants me.”  
“She wants to use you,” April says. “Tommy, please.”  
“Kill them,” Hart says. “Tommy, now. Before they can hurt us. Before they can hurt me.”  
Tommy hesitates. “I can’t,” he says. “I’ve never killed anyone—they’ve been good to me.”  
“They lied to you,” Hart hisses. “I want you, Tommy. I’m your mother. I know you need to come with me. You know that they will kill me. So are you going to help me or not?”  
Tommy hesitates, then takes a step forward.   
“I’m your family,” Hart persuades. “I’m your mother. What do they mean to you? They only use you. They were stuck with you all this time. They used you, didn’t they? They never let you go where you wanted. They never cared.”  
“That’s not true,” Gerard says desperately. “Tommy, we care about you. Hart doesn’t. She will only use you.”   
Tommy’s gaze hardens. “Everyone has used me,” he says. “You used me to find the Organization. You only tried to follow me and stop me because you wanted to find them through me.”  
“That’s not true,” Frank says. “We tried to stop you because I didn’t want anyone to suffer the way I had.”  
Mad takes a step forward. “I know you don’t know me,” they say. “But Tommy, you don’t want to go with her.”  
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Tommy shouts. “All of you!”  
“I’m just telling you what I know. She leads the Organization. How do you think she will be any better than they are?”  
“She said she’s not the leader.”  
“We both know that’s not true,” Mad pushes. “Look, I didn’t want to believe it either. I refused to, and Dorian died because of me. I will never forgive myself for it.”  
“You don’t want to kill,” Frank says softly. “Tommy, it stays with you.”  
“You’ve killed so many people before,” Tommy points out.   
Frank shakes his head. “I have, yes. But it stays with you. You never forget, I’ve never forgotten.” Gerard reaches over, taking Frank’s hand in his, the memory of Frank’s reaction to killing a person rising to his mind. 

Tommy’s hand shakes, the gun trembling in his grasp. For a moment, Gerard thinks he’s going to put it down.   
“Do it,” Hart moves forward, putting her hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “And we can be together and you will always have a family. Won’t it be terrible if your last family disappears? If you don’t kill them, I will.”  
Tommy squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay,” he whispers.  
“No!” Frank screams, moving forward. But he’s too late. 

The gunshot echoes through the room as Mad slumps to the ground. 

*

Tommy stares in shock, the gun trembling in his hand. “I didn’t mean to—” he stamers. “I—what—”  
“You did it,” Hart whispers, guiding him away. Tommy stumbles back, his eyes still fixed on the limp form of Mad. “I’m proud of you.”  
Tommy casts one more anguished look as Hart steers him away, out onto the launch pad. April moves, caught for a moment between going after them and going to Mad, but the decision is made in a moment as a plane lands on the platform. Gerard watches as Tommy is ushered inside by Hart. He sees the familiar outfits of the Defenders, of the Quadrants and panic jolts through him. They’re out of time. 

Frank kneels beside Mad in the center of the room, blood covering his hands, their blood.   
“Mad, hold on,” he’s saying. “Mad, please.”   
“You don’t get to die,” April says fiercely.   
“I’m sorry,” Mad coughs. “I’m really sorry. I should have trusted you.”  
“No,” Frank shakes his head. “Mad, it’s not your fault.”  
Mad closes their eyes briefly. “Gerard, I’m sorry for not trusting you sooner.”  
“Mad,” Gerard reaches out to them.   
“You all have to go,” Mad coughs. “Leave me here. Now. The Defenders will be here.”  
“I can’t,” Frank pleads. “Mad, hold on. We’ll get you to—I don’t know, we’ll find—”  
Mad laughs weakly. “Who would treat me?” they ask. “I’m going to die anyway. But there’s no need for you to die too. Go. Take the elevator to the lowest level. There’s an escape out that way, past the water fountains. Go.”

Frank and April both hesitate, but gunshots cut them off. Gerard ducks as bullets whiz by his ear, nicking the side, the Defenders advancing on them. A bullet catches Mad in the side of their neck, a spurt of blood soaking through the already scarlet carpet. 

Without hesitation, Gerard yanks Frank and April with him toward the elevator, hearing the familiar ding of the button as they race inside, slamming the button closed just as Defenders pour into the room. 

The elevator smells of blood and sweat. Gerard glances down, seeing the dried blood on the floor and the panels, remembering that Bert had escaped through this after being shot earlier. He watches as the numbers tick down, the red digital numbers changing as they plummet. Gerard sends up a silent prayer that they don’t get stopped by any Defenders. 

Frank leans heavily against his shoulder, his face pressed into Gerard’s shirt.   
“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs. “They’re gone.”  
Gerard strokes his hair softly as Frank’s shoulders shake.   
“You okay?” he asks April.   
April only nods numbly before shaking her head. “I don’t know,” she responds after a while. “It’s all my fault.”  
“It’s not,” Frank mutters. “It’s mine. If I had moved faster, I could have pushed them aside.”  
“Moved faster than a bullet?” April scoffs. “No, Frankie, it’s not your fault. I could blame myself for the same thing. No, I shouldn’t have been so caught up on revenge. I was so mad at Bert about Dorian that I didn’t even realize until it was too late.”  
“You can’t blame yourself,” Gerard says softly.   
April shakes her head. “I killed Dorian and Mad,” she mutters. “It’s all my fault.”  
“No,” Frank sighs. “It’s not. It’s not any of our faults. It’s the Organization, or the Defenders, or I guess it’s Hart’s.”  
“We have to make it up to them,” April answers. “Overthrow Hart in their memory. So their death was not a waste.”  
“First let’s focus on getting out of here,” Gerard sighs. “Mad said there should be an exit on the ground floor?”  
“Assuming we get there in time,” Frank responds. “The Defenders or whoever the people after us are, they probably are waiting for us.”

What was the last couplet?  
 _Though dear, don’t fret for not all hope is lost.  
Love will save you, but first you’ll pay the cost._

 _But first you’ll pay the cost._ What cost must he pay? As the elevator panel flashes Ground, he knows what it is. He has to pay the cost.   
“Mad was right,” Gerard mutters to himself. “There’s no need for you to die too.”  
“You’re not getting rid of us that easily,” Frank says sharply. “We’re staying with you.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “There’s no reason for you two to die,” he says. “Get out, find Mikey and Ray. Together, you four have to overthrow Hart.”  
“We’re not leaving you,” April says. “They’re after all of us.”  
Gerard sighs, watching as the elevator panel switches to B. “Fine,” he says. “Get ready to run. Don’t stop until we get out, okay? I don’t know how close the Defenders are.”  
Frank nods. “As long as you don’t leave me.”

Gerard smiles sadly as he pulls Frank toward him, kissing him just as the elevator screeches to a halt. “Go,” he says as the doors begin to open. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He watches as Frank and April both step out of the elevator, taking a deep breath before slamming the door closed button. He watches Frank’s eyes widen as he runs back toward the elevator, but it’s too late. The last sight he sees is Frank, running toward him before the gray doors slide shut.

Gerard takes a deep breath as he travels upward, wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt. It is easier than he expected, watching the numbers climb higher as he nears his fate. It’s the end for him, and he’s strangely calm about it. As long as Frank gets to safety, as long as Mikey and Ray are far away from here and safe, he doesn’t care. 

Without hesitation, he strides out of the elevator, meeting the shocked gaze of several Defenders. 

*

“Gerard?” Pete asks. He looks utterly confused. “What are you doing here?”  
“What’s going on?” Patrick comes around the corner, stopping when he sees Gerard. “What are you doing here?”  
Gerard stares back at them. “What are you doing here?”  
“We’re on duty,” Patrick answers. “Hunting down the fugitive responsible for corrupting Hart’s name and killing Williams—oh no.”  
Gerard nods. “Yep.” He spreads his hands. “Well?”  
“Why?” Andy asks.  
“How many people are with you?” Gerard asks instead.   
“The whole Quadrant Red and Green.”  
“Where’s Mikey? And Ray?” Pete asks. “Gerard, what the hell is going on? You didn’t do this, did you?”  
Gerard sighs. “It’s really complicated and I don’t have much time to explain. You don’t have to trust me, but please. I really need your help. I found the Organization, or actually they found me. They tasked me in killing Williams or they would kill my whole team. One of the others actually ended up killing him, Williams’s son. And Hart is the leader of the Organization and the Defenders, and she just became president.”  
Patrick blinks. “What the fuck?” he says.   
“I know it sounds doubtful,” Gerard answers. “But please, I need your help, not for me. There are two people in the basement right now and I need you to get them out. Frank Iero and April Hare. I need you to save them for me.”  
“Frank? As in the—” Patrick blinks. “Oh, this again. Brian’s going to be even more pissed.”  
“You’re asking us to disregard our orders?” Pete asks. “Gerard, I know you don’t care for orders, but most of us do.”  
“There’s more. Mikey and Ray sent the broadcast and they’re going to be in danger,” Gerard pleads. “I know you don’t have to do this, but if I’ve ever helped you or been good to you, please do this for me.”  
Pete hesitates, then nods. “We will try. I promise.”  
“What about you, Gerard?” Patrick asks. “What are you going to do?”  
Gerard sighs. “I need a radio. I’m going to tell them I surrender.”  
Patrick hands it to him reluctantly. “I hate to do this. You should run.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says. “They will kill you two if you help me more. Get out of here and pretend that you never saw me, okay? Save them for me.”  
Pete nods. “Good luck,” he says. 

Gerard watches as they go, feeling a pang in his heart, but he pushes it away. After an ample amount of time has passed, he presses down the button, ignoring his fingers shaking.   
“This is Gerard Way,” he says into the radio. “You coming to get me? I’m getting bored up here.”

*

The sound of footsteps alerts him a few minutes later. Gerard drops the radio, moving to the center of the room. 

“Agent Way,” a familiar voice calls out. “I think we found something of yours.”  
Gerard glances around the doorway to see Agent Bryar push someone forward. His heart lurches and he’s moving before he knows it, running toward Frank. 

Frank’s hands are bound before him and he’s bleeding from a nasty cut across his forehead, a purple bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He winces as Gerard hugs him. Gerard quickly unties him, throwing the rope to the ground.   
“Are you okay?” Gerard asks, cupping his face. “Frankie, what happened?”  
“You asshole,” Frank spits. “You really think that you were going to sacrifice yourself so I could escape?”  
Gerard sighs. “I’m sorry.”  
“I’m going to punch you.”   
“April?”  
Frank shakes his head, his eyes flooding with tears.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard says, wiping away Frank’s tears with his thumb. “I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t you dare be a fucking martyr for me,” Frank whispers. “I already lost everyone else. I can’t lose you too.”  
Gerard sighs. “I’ll try,” he says. His fingers brush against something warm and sticky on the side of Frank’s shirt. He pulls his hand back to see his fingers are wet with blood. “Are you injured?” Gerard asks.   
“I’m fine,” Frank mutters.   
“What happened?”  
“I got grazed by a bullet. It’s nothing.”  
“That’s more blood than from getting grazed,” Gerard leans over. “What happened?” He’s pulled backward by two people before he gets the chance to see.

“As much as I love this little reunion,” Bob says. “Let’s get to the fun, shall we?”  
“Let me go,” Gerard hisses, struggling. Bryar ignores him.   
“You know, you led us on quite the wild ride,” Bryar sneers. “I’m going to enjoy killing you two.”  
“Then why aren’t we dead yet?” Gerard spits.   
“After the stunt you two pulled with the broadcast,” Bob says. “She needs someone else to blame. That’s what Gerard is for. Perfect, huh? The lead Defender comes through and says that it was all a hoax and that he is the actual leader. With all the chaos, the people will believe anything at this point. That’s what fear does to the mind. And don’t worry. We’ll catch your accomplices who sent it and kill them too.”  
Gerard struggles to keep his face impassive. “You won’t,” he vows.  
“Hart said to make the two of you suffer. I’m not allowed to kill you yet, Way. But I can make you feel pain. And I can get an answer out of you. Everyone breaks at some point.”  
“What about me?” Frank asks.   
Bryar sneers at him. “You, I have a special plan for. See, you’re expendable. I can kill you whenever I please. But I want to drag it out for you.” He kicks Frank in the stomach, making him double over.   
“Stop it!” Gerard yells, straining against the people holding him back. “Stop it, Bryar.”  
Bryar ignores him. “See, Frank Iero. Best assassin out there, best in the Organization. And you failed, you know? You failed all the time. You never listened to orders, you never did what they told you too. You hated it all, you hated killing people and doing what was right for the Organization. Yet Bert still liked you, he still prized you over everyone else, over me. I should have been sent the cases you were. I should have been the one to kill all those people for what they did to me. I begged Bert, you know, to kill Garcia for what he did to my sister. But no, he gave it to you instead because you were the ‘better one.’ Because he liked you more.”  
Frank coughs. “I’m sorry, Bob,” he says. “I didn’t know. Look, I’m not making excuses, but I would have gladly given it to you if you asked.”  
Bob laughs. “You know, I did everything he asked,” he says quietly. “I did everything down to the order. And in the end, that wasn’t what he cared about. He only cared about you. He gave you everything, you know? And why? It wasn’t because you were better. It was because he got to fuck you. That’s all you’re useful for. It’s the only reason anyone has ever wanted you. No one has ever actually cared about you. You’re just a whore, something to fuck. I’m sure that’s the only reason Gerard likes you and wanted to save you. So he could fuck you.”  
“Fuck off,” Frank whispers. “Go fuck yourself.”  
Bob reaches over, grabbing the collar of Frank’s shirt, hauling him up onto his feet. Gerard fights against the people holding him back, wincing as the barrel of a gun digs into his side. For one terrible moment, Bob eyes Frank, glancing him up and down in a way that makes Gerard’s stomach twist. He runs his fingers over Frank’s bottom lip, making Frank recoil, pulling away.   
“Don’t!” Gerard shouts.   
“I can see the appeal,” he scoffs.   
“Don’t touch me,” Frank spits at him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”  
Bob narrows his eyes. Then he punches Frank in the face, kicking him in the side for good measure, Frank curling in on himself, coughing.  
“Stop hurting him,” Gerard hisses. “Hurt me instead.”  
Bob sneers at him. “I don’t care about you,” he says. “The only reason I would is so it would hurt Frankie more.”  
“No,” Frank winces, struggling to his knees. “Don’t hurt him. You’re mad at me. Hurt me instead. Do what you want with me if you let him go.”  
Bob glances between the two of them. “I have to admit this is interesting,” he says. He looks over at Frank. “Anything?”  
Frank nods in an instant. “Anything. Anything you want. I won’t struggle. Just let him go.”  
“No!” Gerard yells. “Don’t.”  
“As fun as that would be, I can’t let him go. No, Hart wants him.” Bob turns to Gerard. “Where are Mikey and Ray? I know they sent the broadcast.”  
“You’ll never catch them,” Gerard spits.   
“I wonder who you care about more,” Bob muses. “Your brother and your friend, or this little shit.” He grabs a handful of Frank’s hair, hauling him up, pressing a knife against his exposed throat.   
“Don’t,” Frank says. “Gerard, don’t do it.”  
“Now, what you’re going to do, Way,” Bryar says. “Is you’re going to come with us willingly. You’re going to tell us where Ray and Mikey are. I am going to kill Frankie and you’re going to declare yourself the leader of the Organization.”  
Gerard stares at him. “If you’re going to kill him, then what pushes me to do it?”  
Bryar sneers. “I don’t think you want to see him in pain, though, do you?” He slashes with the knife in an arc, slicing through the side of Frank’s face. Gerard lurches against his captors, straining and fighting to get to Frank. Frank winces, blood welling from the thin cut slashed across his face.   
“Tell us or I’ll kill him right now, in front of you,” Bob threatens.   
Frank shakes his head. “Don’t,” he coughs. “Gerard, don’t do it.”  
Bob presses the blade tighter against Frank’s throat, leaving a thin red line of blood. “Won’t you hate it?” he asks. “The memory of Frank dying haunting you forever? Everytime you close your eyes, it’s all that you will see. His last breaths, his blood draining out of him as he bleeds out before you.”  
“Don’t,” Frank pleads.   
Gerard hesitates, then slowly stands up. “I’ll tell you,” he says.   
Frank’s eyes widen, slowly begging him not to.  
“I’ll tell it to you,” Gerard says. 

Then before Bob can react, he throws out his elbow, catching his captor in the chest. In a moment, Gerard has grabbed the gun and pressed it against his own temple.

*

Bob laughs, the sound cutting through the silence. “What do you think that’s going to do?” he asks. But there’s a glint of hesitation in his eyes.   
“She wants me, doesn’t she?” Gerard asks. “She wants me alive.”  
“She could as easily take Frankie,” Bob scoffs.   
“Could she? Would it mean as much coming from a random fugitive or from the leader of the Defenders? They liked me, you know. The people. What will they say if I suddenly was murdered? You know, Mikey and Ray are still out there. You think that they will just let Hart take over? No. But if you had me, I could placate them. I could tell them all that it was me, that Hart wasn’t behind it.”  
Bob hesitates.   
“Face it, Bryar,” Gerard takes a step forward. “You’re caught. You need me and I’ll go willingly. Just let Frank go.”  
“No,” Frank struggles, gritting his teeth as the knife digs deeper into his skin. “Gerard, don’t you dare.”  
“I just want five minutes with him,” Gerard says. “Five uninterrupted minutes to say goodbye.”  
Bob sighs, then nods. “Deal,” he says.  
“Let Frank go first.”  
“Put the gun down first.”  
“I can just as easily pull the trigger,” Gerard warns.  
“And I can just as easily slit his throat,” Bob counters. “What’s the stop you from shooting us all as soon as I let him go?”  
“What’s to stop the other Defenders from shooting him the moment I put the gun down?”  
Bob rolls his eyes. “Fine. The Defenders will lower their weapons, then you put your gun down. Deal?”  
Gerard’s gaze flickers to Frank, who shakes his head. “Deal.”

He watches as the Defenders slowly lower their guns to the floor before straightening. Gerard slowly moves the gun from his head, putting it down on the floor. “Your turn.”  
Bob nods, moving the knife away, pushing Frank forward. Frank falls to his hands and knees, Gerard running over to him, pulling him close and holding him. 

“Fuck you,” Frank mutters. “I told you not to be a martyr for me.”  
“Well, too bad,” Gerard whispers, running his hands down Frank’s back. “I love you, okay? I will always love you.”  
“You’re not allowed to leave me,” Frank begs. “Please don’t.”  
Gerard sighs, tugging him closer, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. “I love you,” he says again. His fingers brush against Frank’s blood soaked shirt, Frank pulling away with a hiss of pain.  
“What is it?” Gerard reaches over but Frank bats him away. He glances up at Bob. “What did you do?”  
“I didn’t do anything,” Bob says. “Must have been one of the others who shot him.”  
“You were shot?”  
Frank winces. “Grazed. I’m fine.”  
“You don’t look fine.” Frank looks pale, swaying slightly as he leans against Gerard. Gerard reaches over, gently touching the cuts on Frank’s forehead and cheek, his fingertips brushing against the thin line of half dried blood on the soft skin of his throat. “I’m sorry.”  
“You should be,” Frank sighs. “I told you not to sacrifice yourself for me.”  
Gerard smiles sadly. “Well, you did before, so I think it’s only fair.”  
“It’s not a contest, motherfucker,” Frank hits him gently. “Gerard—” he leans forward, his arms sliding around Gerard’s neck. “I love you,” he says softly. “I love you so much.”

Bob clears his throat. “Time,” he says.   
“You give me your word that you will let him walk away unharmed?”   
Bob nods. “Yes. Finish up.”  
Gerard sighs. He cups Frank’s face in his hands, kissing him hard. He feels Frank tangle his fingers in Gerard’s hair, his lips parting to the kiss. Frank’s lips are soft against his and Gerard shuts his eyes, trying to ignore that this might be the last time he ever sees Frank. 

At last he draws away, taking his rose necklace, the birthday gift from his friends, and drapes it around Frank’s neck. Hopefully, they will recognize it as a sign that Frank is a friend.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind Frank’s ear.   
“No, Gerard—” Frank says. “Please don’t—”  
“182 Oak Street, Second Sector,” he whispers in Frank’s ears. “Go there.”  
“Gerard—”  
“I’m so sorry,” Gerard answers, drawing back. “Go.”  
Frank gazes back at him. “Gerard—”  
“I love you,” Gerard whispers. “I love you so much. But you have to go, okay?” He motions to the Defenders, pain digging in his heart. “Take him.”  
“No!” Frank shouts. “Gee—no, don’t—”  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispers. “I love you.” He lets his eyes linger on Frank as Frank is dragged away by the Defenders, casting glances back at him, his hazel eyes meeting Gerard’s until he’s too far out of sight. 

A strange sense of loneliness and accomplishment flows through him. Frank, Mikey, and Ray are safe, if Patrick and Andy keep their word. Hopefully, this way Gerard can keep them all safe, and who knows? Eventually, he might be able to take down Hart from the inside. But until then, he just knows that he has to be strong. Gerard lets out his breath, turning to Bob.

Bob looks at him, an expression of almost sympathy crossing his face. “Ready?”  
Gerard nods. “Ready.” He feels a prick of pain on the side of his neck, before there is nothing left except for soothing darkness.


End file.
